Цитаты из книги автора Joanne Harris Шоколад. Chocolat

confetti sleeting down collars and cuffs and rolling in the gutters like an idiot antidote to winter.

flying colours of red

Faces are lined like last summer’s apples, eyes pushed into wrinkled flesh like marbles into old dough.

. It’s as good a place as any.

came on the wind of

I notice; cold, light eyes which never hold the gaze, a restless watchfulness, studied, aloof.

Behind the papier-mache, the icing, the plastic, she can still see the real witch, the real magic. She looks up at me, her eyes, which are the blue-green of the Earth seen from a great height, shining.

People always think the fun has to stop when you get old. Well it doesn’t

apocrypha, with tales of Mithras and Baldur the Beautiful and Osiris and Quetzalcoatl all interwoven

candyfloss as the few comers approached, collars turned against the fog, to collect absolution.