To summon things into being by the mysterious alchemy of language. Atlantic. Atlas. Aloft. He was holding the image of his own people up: sometimes it was weight enough to stagger under.
Colum McCannTags: alchemy-of-language
There was something in the music of the accent that Douglass liked: it was as if the Cork people put long lazy hammocks in their sentences.
Colum McCannTags: cork-accent
It was that time of the century when the idea of a gentleman had almost become myth. The Great War had concussed the world. The unbearable news of sixteen million deaths rolled off the great metal drums of the newspapers. Europe was a crucible of bones.
Colum McCannTags: crucible-of-bones
Pain's nothing. Pain's what you give, not what you get.
Colum McCannКрача през света, все едно ми е в джоба.
Colum McCannВъртящи се врати изхвърляха четвъртинки разговор на улицата.
Colum McCannПрекалено отрепетираният живот не си струва живеенето ...
Colum McCannThe smell of the earth, so astoundingly fresh: it strikes Brown like a thing he might eat. His ears throb. His body feels as if it is still moving through the air. He is, he thinks, the first man ever to fly and stand at the exact same time. The war out of the machine. He holds the small bag of letters up in salute. On they come, soldiers, people, the light drizzle of gray.
Ireland.
A beautiful country. A bit savage on a man all the same.
Ireland.
Tags: ireland
Ръката му докосна моята. Този тъй стар, тъй човешки порив на желанието.
Colum McCannПо дяволите, Парк авеню! Стъпвала съм там само при игра на Монополи!
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