[...] leaving for a day or two that hopeless sense of loss which makes beauty what it is: a distant lone tree against golden heavens; ripples of light on the inner curve of a bridge; a thing impossible to capture.
Vladimir NabokovAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: April 22, 1899
- Died: July 2, 1977
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It would hardly be kindness if he didn't punish sin, not to use every means to put the evil thing far from us. Whatever may be meant by the place of misery Mr. Sutherland, it's only another form of his love. Love shining through the fogs of evil, and thus made to look very different.
George MacDonald