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Jack London

    Zaur Pwidézettelőző év
    wide-spread­ing lawns
    b2140623215idézettelőző év
    Letter 10
    June 1835
    MY BELOVED ANGEL,

    I am nearly mad about you, as much as one can be mad: I cannot bring together two ideas that you do not interpose yourself between them.

    I can no longer think of nothing but you. In spite of myself, my imagination carries me to you. I grasp you, I kiss you, I caress you, a thousand of the most amorous caresses take possession of me.

    As for my heart, there you will always be — very much so. I have a delicious sense of you there. But my God, what is to become of me, if you have de‍
    b4008534831idézettelőző év
    flush of angry blood pervaded Bill's face.
    b4008534831idézettelőző év
    spoke gravely and slowly, with no hint of the anger that was raging within
    b4008534831idézettelőző év
    The pitch to which he was aroused was tremendous
    b4008534831idézettelőző év
    crying with fear
    b4008534831idézettelőző év
    the man whose hand he had bitten was angry.
    b4008534831idézettelőző év
    to the cub the spectacle of her protective rage was pleasing.
    b4008534831idézettelőző év
    the next moment, in a rush of anger, he was upon Lip-lip and snapping viciously.
    b4008534831idézettelőző év
    And he fled to Kiche, raging at the end of her stick like an animal gone mad-to Kiche,
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