Lenett H

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Lenett H wants to read
The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe
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Grief Lessons by Euripides
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Paintings in Proust by Eric Karpeles
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Women, Race, and Class by Angela Y. Davis
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Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas
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The Laugh of the Medusa by Hélène Cixous
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Our Lady of the Flowers by Jean Genet
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The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera
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Against Interpretation and Other Essays by Susan Sontag
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The Cultural Politics of Emotion by Sara Ahmed
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More of Lenett's books…
Vladimir Nabokov
“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

Patrick Süskind
“In the period of which we speak, there reigned in the cities a stench barely conceivable to us modern men and women. The streets stank of manure, the courtyards of urine, the stairwells stank of moldering wood and rat droppings, the kitchens of spoiled cabbage and mutton fat; the unaired parlors stank of stale dust, the bedrooms of greasy sheets, damp featherbeds, and the pungently sweet aroma of chamber pots. The stench of sulfur rose from the chimneys, the stench of caustic lyes from the tanneries, and from the slaughterhouses came the stench of congealed blood. People stank of sweat and unwashed clothes; from their mouths came the stench of rotting teeth, from their bellies that of onions, and from their bodies, if they were no longer very young, came the stench of rancid cheese and sour milk and tumorous disease. The rivers stank, the marketplaces stank, the churches stank, it stank beneath the bridges and in the palaces.The peasant stank as did the priest, the apprentice as did his master’s wife, the whole of the aristocracy stank, even the king himself stank, stank like a rank lion, and the queen like an old goat, summer and winter”
Patrick Suskind

F. Scott Fitzgerald
“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Samuel Beckett
“I can't go on, I'll go on.”
Samuel Beckett, I Can't Go On, I'll Go On: A Samuel Beckett Reader

Bret Easton Ellis
“All it comes down to is this: I feel like shit but look great.”
Bret Easton Ellis, American Psycho

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Caity H
13 books | 1 friend



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