Already, he was dreaming of a refined solitude, a comfortable desert, a motionless ark in which to seek refuge from the unending deluge of human stupidity.
In this game he had acquired a great deal of muddled knowledge, more than one approximation and less than one certitude. And absence of energy, a cur… - Joris-Karl Huysmans
In this game he had acquired a great deal of muddled knowledge, more than one approximation and less than one certitude. And absence of energy, a cur…
- Joris-Karl Huysmans
No longer was she merely the dancing-girl who extorts a cry of lust and concupiscence from an old man by the lascivious contortions of her body; who … - Joris-Karl Huysmans
No longer was she merely the dancing-girl who extorts a cry of lust and concupiscence from an old man by the lascivious contortions of her body; who …
He realized at last that the arguments of pessimism were powerless to comfort him - Joris-Karl Huysmans
He realized at last that the arguments of pessimism were powerless to comfort him
Already, he was dreaming of a refined solitude, a comfortable desert, a motionless ark in which to seek refuge from the unending deluge of human stup… - Joris-Karl Huysmans
Already, he was dreaming of a refined solitude, a comfortable desert, a motionless ark in which to seek refuge from the unending deluge of human stup…
There's no doubt about it - gardeners are the only true artists these days. - Joris-Karl Huysmans
There's no doubt about it - gardeners are the only true artists these days.
Immersed in solitude, he would dream or read far into the night. By protracted contemplation of the same thoughts, his mind grew sharp, his vague, un… - Joris-Karl Huysmans
Immersed in solitude, he would dream or read far into the night. By protracted contemplation of the same thoughts, his mind grew sharp, his vague, un…
Only the chaste are truly obscene. - Joris-Karl Huysmans
Only the chaste are truly obscene.
At a period when Literature was wont to attribute the grief of living exclusively to the mischances of disappointed love or the jealousy of adulterou… - Joris-Karl Huysmans
At a period when Literature was wont to attribute the grief of living exclusively to the mischances of disappointed love or the jealousy of adulterou…
Speaking of dust, ‘out of which we came and to which we shall return,’ do you know that after we are dead our corpses are devoured by different kinds… - Joris-Karl Huysmans
Speaking of dust, ‘out of which we came and to which we shall return,’ do you know that after we are dead our corpses are devoured by different kinds…
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