I had never liked, even feared a little, this wild reach of marsh and mud flats where everything seemed turned away from the land, looking off desperately toward the horizon as if in mute search for a sign of rescue.

John Banville

Mots clés sadness loneliness landscape marsh emotional-vision environmental-sadness fen

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If you're all grown up, as you insist, then you're old enough to recognize heat between a man and a woman. And it's there between us. I'm not a saint, Saskia. I'm not one of your respectful human boys. If you ask me, I'm not going to be a gentleman."

"Sainted bloody earth." She'd finally found her tongue. Her cheeks still blushed pink, but her eyes were furious. "How is that no woman has killed you before now?

M.J. Scott

Mots clés saint gentleman killed fen saskia

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