Join 📚 Carla's Highlights
A batch of the best highlights from what Carla's read, .
He took a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped hard at his mouth, back and forth, as though a residue of guilt clung there and he was afraid it would give him away.
one could not distinguish the arabesque from the arbutus, ardor from art, the sore from the rose.
Ada, or Ardor
Vladimir Nabokov
But there may be a period, while the wings are just beginning to grow, when it cannot do so: and at that stage the lumps on the shoulders—no one could tell by looking at them that they are going to be wings—may even give it an awkward appearance.
A Year With C. S. Lewis
C. S. Lewis
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