Life had seemed so simple that morning when I had wakened and found the false spring… But Paris was a very old city and we were young and nothing was simple there, not even poverty, nor sudden money, nor the moonlight, nor right and wrong nor the breathing of someone who lay beside you in the moonlight.
Ernest HemingwayTags: prose-stylist
The light was going: some cloud cover arriving, as if summoned by drama.
China MiévilleTags: simile setting well-written prose-stylist
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