Parfois, tu reªves que le sommeil est une morte lente qui te gagne, une anestesie douce et terrible e la fois, une necrose heureuse : le froid monte le long de tes jambes, le long de tes bras, monte lentement, t'engourdit, t'annihile. Ton orteil est une montagne lointaine, ta jambe un fleuve, ta joue est ton oreiller, tu loges tout entier dans ton pouce, tu fonds, tu coules comme du sable, comme du mercure.
Monte's someone that attracts a strong sense of camaraderie and appreciation for the life that he's lived. I've been trying to get it completed because this probably will be just one of many (murals) to come. There's no reason why we should stop at this, if they tastefully add to the community to remind us of the past.
As a little boy of 3 or 4, I became lame. Something was wrong with my right leg. There are pictures of me being pulled around in a little wagon. The doctors didn't know what to do. So my nanny took me to the miraculous Madonna at Sacro Monte in Varese, the priest blessed me, and I walked.
Gian Carlo Menotti
Why, in truth, sir," was Monte Cristo's reply, "man is but an ugly caterpillar for him who studies him through a solar microscope; but you said, I think, that I had nothing else to do. Now, really, let me ask, sir, have you? "" do you believe you have anything to do? or to speak in plain terms, do you really think that what you do deserves being called anything?
Can we account for instinct?' said Monte Cristo. 'Are there not some places where we seem to breathe sadness? - why, we cannot tell. It is a chain of recollections - an idea which carries you back to other times, to other places - which, very likely, have no connection with the present time and place.
For many years I enjoyed the pleasure of cruising on my yacht all summer long and these were my best holidays. In mid-May, we'd start in St Tropez. I'd collect my bikinis from my home there and then we'd go up to Cannes for the Film Festival, on to Monte Carlo for the Grand Prix and then to Italy.
For, he (The Devil) observed, the issue of the great battle of Good and Evil had been otherwise settled, as he would presently show him. "It wants but a few moments of night, " he continued, "and over this interval of twilight, as you know, I have been given complete control. Look to the West.("The Legend of Monte Del Diablo")
The morning was bright and propitious. Before their departure, mass had been said in the chapel, and the protection of St. Ignatius invoked against all contingent evils, but especially against bears, which, like the fiery dragons of old, seemed to cherish unconquerable hostility to the Holy Church. ("The Legend Of Monte Del Diablo").
It was nearly midnight on the night of February 26, 1806, and Alexandre Dumas, the future author of 'The Count of Monte Cristo' and 'The Three Musketeers,' was asleep at his uncle's house. He was not yet four years old. He was staying there because his father was gravely ill, and his mother thought it best for him not to be at home.
So I have 8 to 10 screenplays written and unproduced. And frankly, some of them are my favorite stories. I have a Western version of The Count Of Monte Cristo where the count has a clockwork hand. I have a screenplay called Mephisto's Bridge about a Faustian deal with the devil. I love them all.
Guillermo del Toro
To wait at Monte Cristo for the purpose of watching like a dragon over the almost incalculable richs that had thus fallen into his possession satisfied not the cravings of his heart, which yearned to return to dwell among mankind, and to assume the rank, power, and influence which are always accorded to wealth - that first and greatest of all the forces within the grasp of man.
If there is anything so romantic as that castle-palace-fortress of Monaco I have not seen it. If there is anything more deliciousthan the lovely terraces and villas of Monte Carlo I do not wish to see them. There is nothing beyond the semi-tropical vegetation, the projecting promontories into the Mediterranean, the all-embracing sweep of the ocean, the olive groves, and the enchanting climate! One gets tired of the word beautiful.
M. E. W. Sherwood
When I was a kid, my mum had a lot of Dumas books in the house, and she's from France originally. My mother had one particular Dumas book that was a family heirloom - this old, beat-up 1938 edition of 'The Count of Monte Cristo' in French. She came to America after losing her parents in World War II as a little kid.
[Talking about Monte Rissell]... and like Ed Kemper he was able to convince the psychiatrist he was making excellent progress while he was actually killing human beings. This is kind of a sick version of the old joke about how many psychiatrists it takes to change a light bulb. The answer being, just one, but only if the light bulb wants to change.
John E. Douglas
Wine buffs write and talk as though the food and wine will be in your mouth at the same time, that one is there to be poured over the other. This is bullshit. Gustatory enjoyment comes from food and wine and cigars of your liking. So far no one has said that a Monte Cristo is the only cigar to smoke after Armagnac, Romeo and Juliet after Calvados ... but the time may yet come.
When his phone rang, he had to dig through his pocket to find it, and his fingers brushed against a pair of tiny earbuds he and Kat had last used in Monte Carlo. Hale smiled a little, realizing he hadn't worn the tux in ages. It was just one of many ways his life had change in the years since a girl named Katarina Bishop crawled into his window and into his life." "" Double Crossed by Ally Carter
My dad worked for Del Monte and then for Monsanto as one of the chief scientists on the Calgene Flavr Savr Tomato. But it was a huge disaster because the tomato didn't taste good. And then my dad started his own genetics company and I began doing that with him. He and I ran a genetics company for 10 years. And so I sold seeds to Florida.
These men are in prison: that is the Outsider's verdict. They are quite contented in prison-caged animals who have never known freedom; but it is prison all the same. And the Outsider? He is in prison too: nearly every Outsider in this book has told us so in a different language; but he knows it. His desire is to escape. But a prison-break is not an easy matter; you must know all about your prison, otherwise you might spend years in tunnelling, like the Abbe in The Count of Monte Cristo, and only find yourself in the next cell.
She seemed out of place at the Fairweather. Too posh, as Susan said. Too well dressed. She never strolled along the shore or went bathing or brought a picture postcard. She just sat on the veranda all day with a book she never read, gazing out to sea. Probably wondering why on earth she came here. Susan had said. She looks as if she'd be more at home in Monte Carlo. I know- she's lost all her money gambling and she's waiting for the sea to warm up before she throws herself in. I hope she remembers to pay her bill first.
My mother could never have said she loved fall, but as she walked down the steps with her suitcase in hand toward the red Monte Carlo her husband had been waiting in for nearly an hour, she could have said that she respected its place as a mediator between two extremes. Fall came and went, while winter was endured and summer was revered. Fall was the repose that made both possible and bearable, and now here she was was with her husband next to her, heading headlong into an early-fall afternoon with only the vaguest ideas of who they were becoming and what came next.
Fiquei ali, com o corpo moedo e doedo, as le¡grimas correndo pelo meu rosto, e s vezes chegando aos meus le¡bios, me fazendo sentir seu gosto salgado. Em minha cabee§a, eu tinha apenas fantasias. Um monte de situae§eµes imagine¡rias em que eu acabava com meu pai, em que eu fazia que nem se faz com um inseto asqueroso.
Camilo Gomes Jr.
Standing on the top of this Monte d'Ora watching the sun come radiantly alive, Turi Guiliano was filled with youthful glee that he had escaped his enemies. He would never obey another human being again. He would choose who should live and who should die, and there was no doubt in his mind that all he would do would be for the glory and freedom of Sicily, for good and not for evil. That he would only strike for the cause of justice, to help the poor. that he would win every battle, that he would win the love of the oppressed. He was twenty years old.
Mario Puzo The Sicilian
You got to understand the god thing. It's not magic. It's about being you, but the you that people believe in. It's about being the concentrated, magnified, essence of you. It's about becoming thunder, or the power of a running horse, or wisdom. You take all the belief and become bigger, cooler, more than human. You crystallize." He paused. "And then one day they forget about you, and they don't believe in you, and they don't sacrifice, and they don't care, and the next thing you know you're running a three-card monte game on the corner of Broadway and Forty-third.
Oh, man, ' Beck breathed. 'Check out the car.' It was white with a black top. The hood looked as as long as a football field. 'Sure is big, ' was all I could manage to say. Beck gazed longingly at the beast, his eyes glowing in appreciation. 'You know what that is?' 'Uh, no. Should I?' 'It's a fully restored, two-door 1973 Monte Carlo. Muscle car, big time.' 'Bet it's hard to park.
COIL would very much like to see the creation of a newsgroup for minimal musics. We enjoy a wide spectrum of such musics, from La Monte Young, Alvin Lucier, Arvo Part, Nurse With Wound's Solilique For Lilith,The Dream Syndicate (orig.concept not the newer group who plundered the name) to Synus, Earth and so on.and on and on. Some new so called ambient musics fall between genres and so between newsgroups: some of our own music has certainly been deeply inspired by and informed by such musics,from Partch to Subotnic.
The novelist Dumas would one day borrow features from both of his uncles, not to mention his grandfather, the acknowledged scoundrel, in fashioning the central villains of The Count of Monte Cristo. Reading court documents detailing the sordid unraveling of Charles's sham fortune, which would have devastating effects on his daughter and her unsuspecting husband, I couldn't help thinking that one of the interesting things about Dumas's villains is that, while greedy and unprincipled themselves, they produce children who can be innocent and decent. This was something that the writer understood very well from his own family.
He who has felt the deepest grief is best able to experience supreme happiness. We must have felt what it is to die, Morrel, that we may appreciate the enjoyments of life. Live, then, and be happy, beloved children of my heart, and never forget, that until the day when God will deign to reveal the future to man, all human wisdom is contained in these two words, - 'Wait and hope.' - Your friend, Edmond Dantes, Count of Monte Cristo. The eyes of both were fixed on the spot indicated by the sailor, and on the blue-line separating the sky from the Mediterranean Sea, they perceived a large white sail.
As palavras em si mesmas ne£o se£o nada. Se£o apenas letrinhas agrupadas ou um monte de sons combinados de uma certa maneira, mas que ne£o fazem nenhum sentido por si mesmos. e‰ a gente que de¡ sentido e s palavras. Este¡ tudo em nossa cabee§a, nos pequenos detalhes de como as coisas funcionam dentro dela. e‰ so uma queste£o de como as coisas se processam no cerebro de uma pessoa e de outra, entende?
Camilo Gomes Jr.
Among all the occurrences possible in the universe the a priori probability of any particular one of them verges upon zero. Yet the universe exists; particular events must take place in it, the probability of which (before the event) was infinitesimal. At the present time we have no legitimate grounds for either asserting or denying that life got off to but a single start on earth, and that, as a consequence, before it appeared its chances of occurring were next to nil... Destiny is written concurrently with the event, not prior to it... The universe was not pregnant with life nor the biosphere with man. Our number came up in the Monte Carlo game. Is it surprising that, like the person who has just made a million at the casino, we should feel strange and a little unreal?
Voyez-vous, lorsqu'on a trop reussi sa vie, On sent, - n'ayant rien fait mon Dieu de vraiment mal! - Mille petits degoe»ts de soi, dont le total Ne fait pas un remords, mais une geªne obscure ; Et les manteaux de duc trae®nent dans leur fourrure, Pendant que des grandeurs on monte les degres, Un bruit d'illusions se¨ches et de regrets, Comme, quand vous montez lentement vers ces portes, Votre robe de deuil trae®ne des feuilles mortes.
I gain nothing but pleasure from writing fiction; short stories are foreplay, novellas are heavy petting - but novels are the full monte. Frankly, if I didn't enjoy writing novels I wouldn't do it - the world hardly needs any more and I can think of numerous more useful things someone with my skills could be engaged in. As it is, the immersion in parallel but believable worlds satisfies all my demands for vicarious experience, voyeurism and philosophic calithenics. I even enjoy the mechanics of writing, the dull timpani of the typewriter keys, the making of notes - many notes - and most seducttive of all: the buying of stationery. That the transmogrification of my beautiful thoughts into a grossly imperfect prose is always the end result doesn't faze me: all novels are only a version- there is no Platonic ideal. But I'd go further still: fiction is my way of thinking about and relating to the world; if I don't write I'm not engaged in any praxis, and lose all purchase.
You see that God deems it right to take from me any claim to merit for what you call my devotion to you. I have promised to remain forever with you, and now I could not break my promise if I would. The treasure will be no more mine than yours, and neither of us will quit this prison. But my real treasure is not that, my dear friend, which awaits me beneath the somber rocks of Monte Cristo, it is your presence, our living together five or six hours a day, in spite of our jailers; it is the rays of intelligence you have elicited from my brain, the languages you have implanted in my memory, and which have taken root there with all of their philological ramifications. These different sciences that you have made so easy to me by the depth of the knowledge you possess of them, and the clearness of the principles to which you have reduced them - this is my treasure, my beloved friend, and with this you have made me rich and happy. Believe me, and take comfort, this is better for me than tons of gold and cases of diamonds, even were they not as problematical as the clouds we see in the morning floating over the sea, which we take for terra firma, and which evaporate and vanish as we draw near to them. To have you as long as possible near me, to hear your eloquent speech, - which embellishes my mind, strengthens my soul, and makes my whole frame capable of great and terrible things, if I should ever be free, - so fills my whole existence, that the despair to which I was just on the point of yielding when I knew you, has no longer any hold over me; this - this is my fortune - not chimerical, but actual. I owe you my real good, my present happiness; and all the sovereigns of the earth, even Caesar Borgia himself, could not deprive me of this.
O YEAH I'M BRAND NEW LIKE YOU HAVEN'T UNWRAPPED IT HEAD OVER HEELS GOT BLOGGERS DOIN' BACK FLIPS AM WHERE I AM CAUSE MY FANS AND SOME PRACTICE I COULD GO FOR 90, BET THE KID IS MATCH FIT GIRLS ON MY PAGE WRITING SAMMY IS A BASTARD THINKING THAT THEY SPECIAL, BUT GOT TREATED LIKE THE LAST CHICK KNOWING THAT MY FAN BASE STRETCHES LIKE ELASTIC JAW DROPPIN' BEATS LIKE IT'S BETTER THAN THE LAST SHIT BUT STILL, I'M IN THE PAINT BY THE BASKET THIS THAT ONE TAKE NEW FLOW STRAIGHT CLASSIC YEAH I SEE THE TRUTH SHINING BRIGHT IF YOU LOOK CLOSE RAPPERS DROPPING NAMES FORGOT TO ADD THE FOOTNOTES IN ALL HONESTY, HATING'S NOT A PART OF ME RESPECT'S IN MY BLOOD, I DON'T NEED A BIBLIOGRAPHY I SHOW LOVE CAUSE THAT'S WHAT I'VE ALWAYS DUG IF YA ASS AIN'T GOT A SHOVEL GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE MUD IT'S SANDBOX I'M SMALLS FIRST TIME ON THE SANDLOT TRYIN' TO LEARN THE RULES MAYBE GET MYSELF A DAMN SHOT YEAH, I'M HITTIN' VEINS YOU COULD HAVE NEVER DRAWN PUMPIN' BLOOD NO RUBBER BANDS AROUND THE ARM BUT LOOKING BACK WHEN I STARTED AS A CRITICS YOUNG TO MAKIN' HITS WITH A GRIN AS THE CROWD APPLAUSE, PAUSE I'M DIGGING DEEPER WITH MY GRITTY PAWS TRYIN' TO GET IT POPPIN' WITH A PRESENCE NO SANTA CLAUS YEAH, AND I'M THE SPITTER WHO DEFIES THE LAWS BRINGING THE HEAT, UNEXPECTED LIKE SOME MENOPAUSE HA, I NEVER THOUGHT THAT ONE OF MY SONGS WOULD SPREAD QUICK ON A THOUSAND DIFFERENT IPODS YEAH, I'M HUMAN AND I GOT BENIGN FLOWS RAPPING WITH THE COMPETITION CHILLIN' UP IN MY JAWS THINKING IN MY MIND HOW TO WRITE MY WRONGS TURNING ALL THIS CHANGE INTO ENDS THAT DEFY LAWS CUT IT OUT I WASN'T TALKING 'BOUT THE BEAT THOUGH AIMIN' TO MAKE EM GET THE POINT LIKE A FREE THROW TELL MY GIRL TO PLEASE RECLINE MY SEAT SLOW KNOWING THAT I'M COLDER THAN THE BOTTOM OF A SKI POLE AND IF IT'S SNOWING IN THE CITY I'M GETTING BLOWN WITH A COUPLE BITCHES DOWN TO RIDE WHERE HE GOES LATE NIGHT IN THE JACUZZI WITH THE SAME HOES CATCHIN' BRAINS PUFFIN ON THEM MONTE CHRISTOS UHHH I'M BACK ON MY SPITTAH SHIT BACK, BA-BACK, BACK ON MY SPITTAH SHIT YEAH, YOU KNOW I'M BACK ON MY SPITTAH SHIT BACK, BA-BACK, BACK ON MY SPITTAH SHIT