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Oscar Wilde

The final mystery is oneself. When one has weighed the sun in the balance, and measured the steps of the moon, and mapped out the seven heavens star by star, there still remains oneself. Who can calculate the orbit of his own soul? ― Oscar Wilde, “De Profundis.” Originally published: 1905   Advertisements

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Argentine Culture · Argentine Literature · Excerpt · Modernism · Paraphrase · Postmodernism · Quote · Spanish Literature

Jorge Luis Borges

We do not exist in the majority of these times; in some you exist, and not I; in others I, and not you; in others, both of us. In the present one, which a favorable fate has granted me, you have arrived at my house; in another, while crossing the garden, you found me dead;… Continue reading Jorge Luis Borges

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Vladimir Nabokov

Here is Virgil who could the nymphet sing in a single tone, but probably preferred a lad’s perineum. Here are two of King Akhenaton’s and Queen Nefertiti’s pre-nubile Nile daughters (that royal couple had a litter of six), wearing nothing but many necklaces of bright beads, relaxed on cushions, intact after three thousand years, with… Continue reading Vladimir Nabokov

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