Gallant de V. E. Schwab
A los que buscan puertas, son valientes para abrir las que encuentran y a veces osados para crear las suyas propias.
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Gallant de V. E. Schwab
A los que buscan puertas, son valientes para abrir las que encuentran y a veces osados para crear las suyas propias.
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La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
Ha descubierto que los libros son una forma de vivir mil vidas, o de hallar la fuerza en una muy larga.
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La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
«Una soñadora», dice su madre con desdén. «Una soñadora», se lamenta su padre. «Una soñadora», advierte Estele. Aun así, no parece una palabra tan horrible. Hasta que Adeline se despierta. |
Gallant de V. E. Schwab
—Todas las cosas proyectan una sombra —comienza—. Incluso el mundo en el que vivimos. Y, con cada sombra, hay un lugar donde conecta. Un punto que une la sombra con su fuente.
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Gallant de V. E. Schwab
Ha aprendido que la realidad es algo resbaladizo, que no es una línea negra sólida sino una forma con los bordes suavizados, un montón de gris.
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La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
En un abrir y cerrar de ojos tienes veintiocho años, y aunque hace ya mucho todos los demás te dejaron atrás tú sigues intentando encontrar el camino, y no se te escapa la ironía de que por culpa de tu deseo de vivir, de aprender, de encontrarte a ti mismo, has acabado perdido.
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La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
Henry está lleno de raíces, mientras que ella sólo tienes ramas.
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Una obsesión perversa de V. E. Schwab
Y cuando te preguntas por algo, ¿no significa que una parte de ti quiere creer en eso? Yo creo que, en la vida, queremos demostrar las cosas, mas de lo que queremos refutarlas. Queremos creer.
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La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
“How long will you carry on?” he muses. “What is the point of dragging yourself through another day, when there is no reprieve?”
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La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
That semantics may seem small, but he taught her once that words were everything.
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La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
She does not know if it was love, or simply a reprieve. If contentment can compete with passion, if warmth will ever be as strong as heat. But it was a gift. Not a game, or a war, not a battle of wills. Just a gift. Time, and memory, like lovers in a fable. |
La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
That kiss, like a piece of long-awaited punctuation. Not the em dash of an interrupted line, or the ellipsis of a quiet escape, but a period, a closed parenthesis, an end. An end. |
La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
The details are simply fading, as all things do, glossing over by degrees, the mind loosening its hold on the past to make way for the future.
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La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
“Life can feel very long sometimes, but in the end, it goes so fast.” Her eyes are glassy with tears, but she is smiling. “You better live a good life (...)
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La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
No one is ever ready to die. Even when they think they want to. No one is ready. |
La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
(…) time always ends a second before you’re ready. That life is the minutes you want minus one. |
La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
(...) the simple truth is that he would have sold his soul for less, would have traded an entire life of this for just a day—an hour, a minute, a moment—of peace. Just to numb the pain inside his chest. Just to quiet the storm inside his head. He is so tired of hurting, so tired of being hurt. |
La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
And then he whispers three words into her hair. “I love you,” he says, and Addie wonders if this is love, this gentle thing. If it is meant to be this soft, this kind. The difference between heat, and warmth. Passion, and contentment. “I love you too,” she says. She wants it to be true. |
La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
“Why would anyone trade a lifetime of talent for a few years of glory?” Luc’s smile darkens. “Because time is cruel to all, and crueler still to artists. Because vision weakens, and voices wither, and talent fades.” He leans close, twists a lock of her hair around one finger. “Because happiness is brief, and history is lasting, and in the end,” he says, “everyone wants to be remembered.” The words are a knife, cutting swift and deep. |
La vida invisible de Addie Larue de V. E. Schwab
“Do you still have feelings for him?” And she wants to be honest, to say that of course she does. She never gets closure, never gets to say good-bye—no periods, or exclamations, just a lifetime of ellipses. Everyone else starts over, they get a blank page, but hers are full of text. People talk about carrying torches for old flames, and it’s not a full fire, but Addie’s hands are full of candles. How is she supposed to set them down, or put them out? She has long run out of air. But it is not love. |
Gregorio Samsa es un ...