Aristotle: Poetics by Aristotle

By Aristotle

This assortment chronicles the fiction and non fiction classics via the best writers the realm has ever identified. The inclusion of either well known in addition to neglected items is pivotal to offering a large and consultant choice of vintage works.

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Or maybe, she thought uneasily, it was simply vvhat she expected, and the truth lay beyond her eyesight, beyond human imagining. The last step vanished; she stood on a path of moonstones that led to the closed gate of the palace. The gate and walls were of crystal and glass, outlined in gold. Within, she could see a garden blown of glass: roses, hedgerows, stately trees whose great ridged leaves resembled kelp. She saw no one. There was a glass bell beside the gate, she saw as she came closer. A little glass hammer hung beside it.

She withheld tears stubbornly, turning her face to let the wind hide it beneath her hair. "What if he does want to come back and he doesn't know how? " He smiled slightly. "You still love him? In spite of her ? " "Ma¸ybe, maybe not. I don't know. " She lifted her head, shook hair out of her face. "How do I get down there? " She blinked. Then she met his eyes and felt the blood burn in her face. " She licked her lips. "What are the other ways ? " His smile deepened. "I could take you there. Why don't you let me?

The light changed, or his vision became unearthly for a moment: The shining towers of light and gold, the gardens spun of glass, the windows of every fish's color, were of such loveliness he knew he had stepped beyond his world. A pearl fell from his eye. And then the visioôn was gone, leaving him alone, neither of one world or another. But the song, stealing like rapture into his blood, was unchanged, and it beckoned now from one fixed place in the sea. He moved again, more quickly. The sea itself lured him: A leaf traced his lips with its fine edge as he pushed through a stand of kelp; others clung briefly, intimately, like hands.

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