Tragedy is restful: and the reason is that hope, that foul, deceitful thing, has no part in it.
Jean AnouilhAbout author
- Author's profession: Playwright, Writer
- Nationality: french
- Born: June 23, 1910
- Died: October 3, 1987
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Yet I liked him too much… way too much, and I ripped him out of my heart so it wouldn’t get to hurt me more than it did. Oh, he’s magnetic, he’s charming; you could fall into his eyes. Let’s face it: his sex appeal was unbearably strong. I wanted to know him—- the thoughts, the ideas behind the handsome, confident, wisecracking mask… then the friction increased, centered. His nearness was electric in itself. ‘Can’t you see,’ he said. ‘I want to kiss you.’ So he kissed me, hungrily, his eyes...
Sylvia Plath