I know dozens of writers who would be willing to sell his mother to write the perfect novel, some of which the mind regards maternal sacrifice, if rewarded with a place in the ranking of the best-selling books. For me, the perfection of others almost moves me, but I admire instead of envy, because to sell my own mother did not talk about it. I remain amazed, I rubbed my hands or take a deep breath, for example, when I remember the beauty of a novel as Revolutionary Road by Richard Yates .
And if, aware of my limitations, I want something, is that luck ol'ispirazione take me a day to write at least one page of which to be completely satisfied, even proud. Or a final masterful and bright, like this:
"But from this point on, Howard Givins only heard a thunderous, pleasant sea of \u200b\u200bsilence. He turned off the hearing aid. "
E 'off with this ending Revolutionary Road, a movement toward zero auditory Givins exercised by the old, tired and boring to listen to gossip about the assessments of his wife and Mrs Wheeler. A zero language, a sort of "be no more" Bianciardi where I know it when, every morning, step six hours in the display case glass case number 7. I go into my transparent capsule, and I think Mr. Givins, and the fact that if being deaf is undoubtedly a drawback, but definitely can not hear no. Then turn the volume of my equipment up to anything, and I allow myself to the sight of customers in queue: Italian-looking angry and impatient of those who precedes or follows, or the cashier and writer, engaged in an evil makes it plausible that the individualistic 'idea that the unification of Italy was the result of chance.
but I never thought of being forced to defend myself with the self-inflicted deafness and Sunday evening, only expedient not to hear a few sentences of the managing director of Juventus, which made him look, but always managing director of Sambenedettese.
Then, fortunately, I was reminded of a beautiful view in the afternoon game, played with courage and class by both teams in the field. Under 0-2, Leonardo took a look at its rich bench:
"Crazy, it's your turn."
No response. Even
Giampaolo had been taken off the hearing aid.
notified by a blow on the shoulder from a mate, that's hot Pazzini along the side of the foul line, take off the suit, showing all the number 7 brand.
Two goals, a penalty which they represent: Inter 3, Palermo 2. The Inter neoacquisto could not imagine a better debut Meazza stadium in a Marassi multiplied by two and a half. A diagonal shot low to the ground right out from nothing back to the door, a whiplash head a cross from Maicon, performed with a feline quickness to the dismay of the Palermo defense. And then the usual jubilation with the gesture of two fingers to indicate the eyes, as if to say
"Did you see?"
Yes, although I was not listening.
And if, aware of my limitations, I want something, is that luck ol'ispirazione take me a day to write at least one page of which to be completely satisfied, even proud. Or a final masterful and bright, like this:
"But from this point on, Howard Givins only heard a thunderous, pleasant sea of \u200b\u200bsilence. He turned off the hearing aid. "
E 'off with this ending Revolutionary Road, a movement toward zero auditory Givins exercised by the old, tired and boring to listen to gossip about the assessments of his wife and Mrs Wheeler. A zero language, a sort of "be no more" Bianciardi where I know it when, every morning, step six hours in the display case glass case number 7. I go into my transparent capsule, and I think Mr. Givins, and the fact that if being deaf is undoubtedly a drawback, but definitely can not hear no. Then turn the volume of my equipment up to anything, and I allow myself to the sight of customers in queue: Italian-looking angry and impatient of those who precedes or follows, or the cashier and writer, engaged in an evil makes it plausible that the individualistic 'idea that the unification of Italy was the result of chance.
but I never thought of being forced to defend myself with the self-inflicted deafness and Sunday evening, only expedient not to hear a few sentences of the managing director of Juventus, which made him look, but always managing director of Sambenedettese.
Then, fortunately, I was reminded of a beautiful view in the afternoon game, played with courage and class by both teams in the field. Under 0-2, Leonardo took a look at its rich bench:
"Crazy, it's your turn."
No response. Even
Giampaolo had been taken off the hearing aid.
notified by a blow on the shoulder from a mate, that's hot Pazzini along the side of the foul line, take off the suit, showing all the number 7 brand.
Two goals, a penalty which they represent: Inter 3, Palermo 2. The Inter neoacquisto could not imagine a better debut Meazza stadium in a Marassi multiplied by two and a half. A diagonal shot low to the ground right out from nothing back to the door, a whiplash head a cross from Maicon, performed with a feline quickness to the dismay of the Palermo defense. And then the usual jubilation with the gesture of two fingers to indicate the eyes, as if to say
"Did you see?"
Yes, although I was not listening.
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