Electric Horseman Quotes

It wasn't this soldier's uniform that affected her, and it wasn't his looks. It was the way he had stared at her from across the street, separated from her by ten meters of concrete, a bus, and the electric wires of the tram line.

Alexander looked her over up and down. Tatiana exuded a porous, evanescent, yet everlasting warmth; her very presence, her satin face in his palm made his back hurt less. Her radiant eyes, her flushed cheeks, her slightly parted loving lips…Alexander stared at her, his eyes wide open, his soul wide open, his adoring heart hurting exquisitely. “You are an angel sent from heaven, aren’t you?” An electric smile lit up her face. “And you don’t know the half of it,” she whispered. “You don’t know what your Tania has been cooking up here.” In her delight she nearly squealed. “What have you been cooking up? No, don’t sit up. I want to feel your face.” “Shura, I can’t. I’m practically on top of you. We need to be very careful.” The smile faded an octave. “Dimitri walks around here all the time. Walks in, out, checks on you, leaves, comes back. What’s he worried about? He was quite surprised to find me here.” “He’s not the only one. How did you get here?” “All part of my plan, Alexander.” “What plan is this, Tatiana?” She whispered, “To be with you when I die of old age.” “Oh, that plan.

You and I want to much from this Soviet life". "I want nothing from this life", said Tatiana. "Just you". "Me, and running hot water, and electricity, and a little house in the desert, and a State that doesn't ask for your life in return for these small things". "No", Tatiana said, shaking her head. "Just you". Moving her hair back under her scarf, Alexander studied her face. "And a State that doesn't ask for your life in return for me.

Throughout most of his life, Washington’s physical vigor had been one of his most priceless assets. A notch below six feet four and slightly above two hundred pounds, he was a full head taller than his male contemporaries. (John Adams claimed that the reason Washington was invariably selected to lead every national effort was that he was always the tallest man in the room.) A detached description of his physical features would have made him sound like an ugly, misshapen oaf: pockmarked face, decayed teeth, oversized eye sockets, massive nose, heavy in the hips, gargantuan hands and feet. But somehow, when put together and set in motion, the full package conveyed sheer majesty. As one of his biographers put it, his body did not just occupy space; it seemed to organize the space around it. He dominated a room not just with his size, but with an almost electric presence. “He has so much martial dignity in his deportment,” observed Benjamin Rush, “that there is not a king in Europe but would look like a valet de chambre by his side.”10 Not only did bullets and shrapnel seem to veer away from his body in battle, not only did he once throw a stone over the Natural Bridge in the Shenandoah Valley, which was 215 feet high, not only was he generally regarded as the finest horseman in Virginia, the rider who led the pack in most fox hunts, he also possessed for most of his life a physical constitution that seemed immune to disease or injury. Other soldiers came down with frostbite after swimming ice-choked rivers. Other statesmen fell by the wayside, lacking the stamina to handle the relentless political pressure. Washington suffered none of these ailments. Adams said that Washington had “the gift of taciturnity,” meaning he had an instinct for the eloquent silence. This same principle held true on the physical front. His medical record was eloquently empty.11

During dessert Vikki finally managed to edge in one complaint. “It was our first anniversary last month,” she said, “and do you know what my newlywed besotted husband bought me? A food processor! Me—a food processor!” “It was a hint, Viktoria.” Vikki theatrically rolled her eyes. Richter just rolled his. Trying not to smile, Alexander glanced at Tania, who was loving on her death-by-chocolate cake and hardly paying attention. She embraced electric gadgets with all her heart. There was not an electric can opener, a blender, a coffee maker that did not get his wife wildly enthusiastic. She window shopped for these items every Saturday, read their manuals in the store and then at night regaled Alexander with their technical attributes, as if the manuals she was reciting were Pushkin’s poetry. “Tania, darling, my closest friend,” said Vikki, “please tell me you agree. Don’t you think a food processor is extremely unromantic?” After thinking carefully, her mouth full, Tatiana said, “What kind of food processor?” For Christmas, Alexander bought Tatiana a Kitchen-Aid food processor, top of the line, the best on the market. Inside it she found a gold necklace. Despite a very full house, and Anthony right outside on the couch, she made love to Alexander that Christmas night in candlelight wearing nothing but the necklace, perched and posted on top of him, her soft silken hair floating in a mane and her warm breasts swinging into his chest.