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Innocence always calls mutely for protection when we would be so much wiser to guard ourselves against it: innocence is like a dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.
“Do you know what love is? I’ll tell you: it is whatever you can still betray.”
― The Looking Glass War
― The Looking Glass War
“Then, breaking forth from a bizarre low angle, a ray of light shining up the gorge illuminating a world otherwise cast in darkness by the black rain clouds above. The water reflects a white brilliance. From where I am watching, the mass of glistening white is momentarily blinding. It takes some time for my eyes to adjust to this whiteness and recognise the river. The Franklin River. A world pure and whole and complete unto itself. Neither rubber condoms nor rubber tyres nor tin cans nor dioxins nor bent rusting chrome reminders of the cars they once graced nor any of the other detritrus of our world seem to abide here. This is an alien world. This is the river. Rising in the Cheyne Range. Falling down Mt Gell. Writhing like a snake in the wild lands at the base of the huge massif of Frenchmans Cap. Writing its past and prophesying its future in massive gorges slicing through mountains and cliffs so undercut they call them verandahs, and in eroded boulders and beautiful gilded eggs of river stone, and in beaches of river gravel that shift year to year, flood to flood, and in that gravel that once was rounded river rock that once was eroded boulder that once was undercut cliff that once was mountain and which will be again.”
― Death Of A River Guide
― Death Of A River Guide
“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.”
― A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches
― A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches
“Evening. The dead sheathed in the earth’s crust and turning the slow diurnal of the earth’s wheel, at peace with eclipse, asteroid, the dusty novae, their bones brindled with mold and the celled marrow going to frail stone, turning, their fingers laced with roots, at one with Tut and Agamemnon, with the seed and the unborn.”
― The Orchard Keeper
― The Orchard Keeper
Espionage Aficionados
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Pssst--buddy. Dig spy stories? Foreign intrigue? Conspiracies? Join up with.. We got LeCarre, Deighton; Follett; Littell; Ambler; Furst; Silva a ...more
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