lottereinigerforever:

Jeanne Moreau in “Mademoiselle”

lottereinigerforever:

Jeanne Moreau in “Mademoiselle”

Even so you have managed to live that love in the only way possible for you. Losing it before it happened. Marguerite Duras, The Malady of Death, translation by Barbara Bray (via frenchtwist)
frenchtwist:

via emmanuelleriva:

Hiroshima mon amour, Alain Resnais, 1959

frenchtwist:

via emmanuelleriva:

Hiroshima mon amour, Alain Resnais, 1959
lauramcphee:

Whispers of Love, Marguerite Duras, 1956Cover illustration by Stanley Zuckerberg

lauramcphee:

Whispers of Love, Marguerite Duras, 1956
Cover illustration by Stanley Zuckerberg

lauramcphee:

Marguerite Duras, c1930

lauramcphee:

Marguerite Duras, c1930

lauramcphee:

Hiroshima Mon Amour, 1959 (Alain Resnais)

lauramcphee:

Hiroshima Mon Amour, 1959 (Alain Resnais)

Suddenly, all at once, she knows, knows that he doesn’t understand her, that he never will, that he lacks the power to understand such perverseness. And that he can never move fast enough to catch her.

Marguerite Duras, The Lover

via nymphlight (via frenchtwist)

(via frenchtwist)

defrag:

Marguerite Duras
: listal.com

defrag:

Marguerite Duras

: listal.com

(via hoodoothatvoodoo)

I’ve talked a lot about writing. But I don’t know what it is. — Marguerite Duras, from “The Blue of the Scarf” in Practicalities, trans. William Collins (via proustitute)

(via )