Résultats 1-3 sur 75
Often during my adolescence I had felt like a solitary traveller crossing a desert.
In spite of my intellectual smugness, socially I was timid and I was often silent
even among my friends. Now I was completely at ease with someone I hardly
I knew he wasn't pretending. He didn't say he loved me — it was too soon. He
said it, and showed it, but weeks later. If he had taken possession of me then by
the power of his body or unleashed a torrent of sentiment in declaring his love, ...
But I knew so well that he would be unable to accept, or even to understand, my
reason for coming to Paris that it would be better simply to return without adding
all that unpleasantness to the sadness my grandmother's condition gave me.
Avis des internautes - Rédiger un commentaire
LibraryThing ReviewAvis d'utilisateur - bakersfieldbarbara - LibraryThing
An interesting book, but I kept wondering how Ms Gilot remembered all of what she wrote about. Did she take notes, knowing one day that she would write a book about her life with Picasso? If all of ... Consulter l'avis complet
16 autres sections non affichées