Our Lady of the Flowers
Jean Genet, Jean-Paul Sartre
and likewise of prisons where—oh, the horror of it—one by no means hears the rattle of a number of keys. Culafroy walked approximately barefoot, one of the sheets. He used to be residing via mins that have been gentle as minuets, that have been composed of tension and tenderness. He even ventured a toe dance, however the sheets, which shaped putting walls and corridors, the sheets, quiet and artful as corpses, may have drawn jointly and imprisoned and smothered him, because the branches of sure bushes in hot nations.
Hooligans approached her. First, they got here up guffawing approximately whatever or different, probably approximately Divine; then they acknowledged hi and requested how the grind was once going. Divine used to be maintaining a pencil, and the pencil performed automatically over her nails and drew an abnormal piece of lace after which, extra consciously, a diamond form and a rosette and a holly leaf. The little tramps began ragging her. They acknowledged that pricks needs to damage, that outdated men... that ladies had extra charm... that they themselves have been pimps...
vegetation seventy eight Our girl of the flora at the brass, yet they nonetheless held up, a flower−stand within which the water had no longer been replaced. the material roses have been really useless. To cause them to glance a piece real looking, Our girl raised his naked arm, and the assassin made nearly the very gesture, concept probably a trifle extra tough, that Emilienne d'Alencon will surely have made in rumpling her chignon. in reality, he resembled Emilienne d'Alencon. the massive proud negro used to be so moved by means of the bustle of Our Lady's blue.
the following to watch, “this morning,” a spider that's weaving within the darkest nook of my telephone. future has artfully directed my gaze to it and its net. The oracle manifests itself. i will be able to simply bow with out cursing: “You are your individual destiny, you have got woven your individual spell.” just one misfortune can befall me, that's, the main negative. the following am I, reconciled with the gods. the humanities of divination are not making me set myself questions, on the grounds that they're divine. I should still wish to get back to Solange, to Divine,.
The attorney used to be doing his utmost. He spoke volubly, his sentences went on and on. One felt they had been born of lightning and could peter out in tails of comets. He was once mingling what he acknowledged have been his early life thoughts (of his personal adolescence, during which he himself were tempted by means of the satan) with notions of natural legislation. regardless of such touch, natural legislations remained natural and, within the gray drool, retained its difficult, crystal brilliance. The legal professional spoke first of being pointed out within the gutter, the instance.