#russ

Max," I said, looking up at him, "I love the Russian heritage you guys are so willing to share, but I'm not so thrilled with the French." "What?" His brows lowered. "We're not French." "Great. So the next time you feel the need to kiss me, keep your tongue out of my mouth! ↗

— Shannon Delany

#french-kiss #jessica #love #max #russian

My wish for you... is that your skeptic-eclectic brain be flooded with the light of truth. ↗

— Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

#prisoner #russian #zek #skepticism

Zee replies grimly, 'I understand that problem...Buns is a force of nature.' 'She is,' I say with a reluctant smile, 'you're kind of screwed, dude. She's definitely got her own ideas.' Zee grins too. 'Do not laugh too hard, playa, yours is a Throne..karma...' he says, noddin' his head before grimacin' and addin', 'ouch'. My smile broadens involuntarily. 'Zee, when did you become funny?' I ask. 'It is difficult to be funny in Human,' he says, before lookin' at his watch and than graspin' the cover of the portal computer. 'Learn my language and you will think I am hysterical. ↗

— Amy A. Bartol

#zephyr #funny

LUBOV. I'm quite sure there wasn't anything at all funny. You oughtn't to go and see plays, you ought to go and look at yourself. What a grey life you lead, what a lot you talk unnecessarily. ↗

— Anton Chekhov

#russian #true #funny

i haf the sownd of more words butt i coud not remember the shaps of the letters. ↗

— Karen Russell

#karen-russell #home

Granana lives on the other side of the island. She's eighty-four, I'm twelve, and Wallow's fourteen, so it's a little ambiguous as to who's babysitting whom. ↗

— Karen Russell

#karen-russell #home

One should write only those books from whose absence one suffers. In short: the ones you want on your own desk. ↗

— Marina Tsvetaeva

#russian #writing-advice #writing-advice

But her favorite is the Houdini fantasy. Big Red disagrees with his biographers, who say that he was driven by his longing to shuck off this mortal coil. She knows that he was all the time just searching for a box that could hold him. ↗

— Karen Russell

#the-city-of-shells #home

I just want to tell her that I'm sorry," Wallow says softly. He doesn't know that I'm awake. He's talking to himself, or maybe to the ocean. There's not a trace of fear in his voice. And it's clear then that Wallow is a better brother than I could ever hope to be. ↗

— Karen Russell

#karen-russell #home

The baby turtles are turning away from the ocean. It's easy to see why. The black waves lap up the moonbeams, and the starlight on the inky surface of the water gives off such a pale glow when you compare it to the megawatt flashlights that Raffy is swirling in hypnotic circles. ↗

— Karen Russell

#star-gazers-log #summer-time-crime #home