Aryami Bose's home had been closed up for years, inhabited only by books and paintings, but the spectre of thousands of memories imprisoned between its walls still permeated the house.
Carlos Ruiz ZafónTag: books home house memories paintings walls permeate imprisoned spectre
He was rather clumsy and shy and looked as if he'd spent the last ten years of his life locked up in a library - hardly the kind of man any girl your age dreams of ...
Carlos Ruiz ZafónTag: dreams library shy clumsy
Who are the lunatics? The ones who see horror in the heart of their fellow humans and search for peace at any price? Or the ones who pretend they don't see what's going on around them? The world belongs either to lunatics or hypocrites. There are no other races on this earth. You must choose which one to belong to.
Carlos Ruiz ZafónTag: earth lunatics hypocrites races fellow-humans you-must-choose
Those places where sadness and misery abound are favoured settings for stories of ghosts and apparitions. Calcutta has countless such stories hidden in its darkness, stories that nobody wants to admit they believe but which nevertheless survive in the memory of generations as the only chronicle of the past. It is as if the people who inhabit the streets, inspired by some mysterious wisdom, relalise that the true history of Calcutta has always been written in the invisible tales of its spirits and unspoken curses.
Carlos Ruiz ZafónTag: sadness stories darkness memory misery generations ghosts written survive spirits tales calcutta apparitions chronicle-of-the-past true-history unspoken-curses
Everything in life in nonsense. It's just a question of persepctive
Carlos Ruiz Zafónyou don't know what thirst is until you drink for the first time
Carlos Ruiz ZafónThe truth is what hurts
Carlos Ruiz ZafónDoes the madman know he is mad? Or are the madmen those who insist o. Convincing him of his unreason in order to safeguard their own idea of reality?
Carlos Ruiz ZafónTime has taught me not to lose hope, yet not to trust too much in hope either. Hope is cruel, and has no conscience.
Carlos Ruiz ZafónTime played on the opposite team.
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