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mbrl.module.common.modules.added.book.to.shelf
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214 نتائج ل "Delbanco, Nicholas"
صنف حسب:
My Life in Art
To my uncle, an art specialist, for his talks to me and helping assemble my book. Most of the photographs and postcards would have come from my father's collection; in his studio he kept a box of small-scale copies of prized pictorial art. On the relatively few occasions when I made a spelling mistake-this was before the era of \"white-out\" or spell-check-I corrected the errors by hand. \"At such times he would frequently think of meat and if he finally clubbed a buffalo in his joy he might paint a picture of the beast. Since the men lived in a cave and the cave walls were usually rough, the picture would probably follow an outline of bumps on the surface of the cave.\"
THE HOUSE
[...]she assured him, she understood the value of convenience. [...]they met with younger agents and chose as representative a blonde divorcee with a black Mercedes convertible and a high chittering laugh. At the office, he had supervised the transition from typewritten individual essays to online common applications; he created a network of alumni interviewers all across the country, and the University of Michigan refined its admission protocols and broadened its out-of-state and international applicant base. The first of them was, Eliane said, functionally illiterate; she couldn't bear to sell the house to someone who wrote: \"We XOXOX your place and high-five about it's being ours!\" A second woman wrote, \"This street was where my mother lived, across the way from the Johnsons, and it would be a dream come true for her to come home again along with my husband and I!
LINER NOTES
[...]I d had the habit of composition, the shaping of words into sentences and sentences to paragraphs, and though for a decade I stopped writing novels I did continue to write.\" For obvious reasons, that's a prospect of incremental interest to me-but I followed it with a study of The Art of Youth: Crane, Carrington, Gershwin, and the Nature of First Acts (2013).
THE WINDOW
While Frederick climbed up the corporate ladder-his career was in commercial real estate, and early on he had the idea for a warehousing system and model of self-storage that would gain national traction-his elder brother drifted from address to address and liked to quote Timothy Leary: \"Turn on, tune in, drop out.\" At such gatherings he drinks red wine, but does not open a bottle at home; he cannot finish a bottle alone, and it does seem wasteful to let the wine go sour and then pour it out.\\n When-she pauses briefly-the government required a listing of occupants in the late 1930s for the census, there were thirteen persons in the house, and we are only five, but five seems-how do you say?-sufficient for a family, and of course there are no maids.
WHAT YOU CARRY
For years thereafter his favorite photo remained the one he took that afternoon: his bride emerging from a sun-shot grove of aspens, the horses' heads behind her, tack draped across her shoulder like a scarf. Through all his adolescence and young manhood this was constant: a continual sense that the woman in an armchair, her reading glasses on and a martini in a water glass on the coaster on the rosewood table at her side, her black hair going gray, her ability to beat him at chess less certain, her German accent decreasing, her roses more splendid each spring-a sense that his mother was someone to reckon with and serve. Kenneth grows certain, suddenly, that there was a third party present-someone at the edge of things, beyond the lens or range of his remembrance, some business associate of Simon's with a camera, or someone passing through who made his mother laugh.