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The Twelve Chairs
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Virgin Soil by Ivan Turgenev
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Tales of Belkin by Alexander Pushkin
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The Red and the Black by Stendhal
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The Gods Themselves by Isaac Asimov
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Daisy Miller and Washington Square by Henry James
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Cesar Birotteau by Honoré de Balzac
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War with the Newts by Karel Čapek
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The Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick, Volume 4 by Philip K. Dick
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The End of Eternity by Isaac Asimov
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Spring Torrents by Ivan Turgenev
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More of Stephen's books…
George Orwell
“And in every detail of your life, if no ultimate purpose redeemed it, there was a quality of greyness, of desolation, that could never be described, but which you could feel like a physical pang at your heart. Life, if the grave really ends it, is monstrous and dreadful. No use trying to argue it away. Think of life as it really is, think of the details of life; and then think that there is no meaning in it, no purpose, no goal except the grave. Surely only fools or self-deceivers, or those whose lives are exceptionally fortunate, can face that thought without flinching?”
George Orwell, A Clergyman's Daughter

Yevgeny Zamyatin
“I looked silently at her lips. All women are lips, all lips. Some are pink and firmly round: a ring, a tender guardrail from the whole world. And then there are these ones: a second ago they weren’t here, and just now — like a knife-slit — they are here, still dripping sweet blood.”
Yevgeny Zamyatin, We
tags: women

Oscar Wilde
“The silver trumpets rang across the Dome;
The people knelt upon the ground with awe;
And borne upon the necks of men I saw,
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.

Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,
And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,
Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head;
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.

My heart stole back across wide wastes of years
To One who wandered by a lonely sea;
And sought in vain for any place of rest:
“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,
I, only I, must wander wearily,
And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.”
Oscar Wilde

Aldous Huxley
“Sex can be used either for self-affirmation or for self-transcendence — either to intensify the ego and consolidate the social persona by some kind of conspicuous ‘embarkation’ and heroic conquest, or else to annihilate the persona and transcend the ego in an obscure rapture of sensuality, a frenzy of romantic passion, more creditably, in the mutual charity of the perfect marriage.”
Aldous Huxley, The Devils of Loudun
tags: sex, truth

Aldous Huxley
“The untutored egotist merely wants what he wants. Give him a religious education, and it becomes obvious to him, it becomes axiomatic, that what he wants is what God wants, that his cause is the cause of whatever he may happen to regard as the True Church and that any compromise is a metaphysical Munich, an appeasement of Radical Evil.”
Aldous Huxley, The Devils of Loudun

Anielle...
265 books | 24 friends

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Tim
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