The Romanticism gave us the much loved and much hated Byronic hero - a noble solitary scoundrel, misunderstood, lonely and suffering, brooding and disillusioned, dark and alluring, haughty and cynical, yet charismatic and irresistible to women, painfully self-aware — and blinding in his superiority to the otherwise banal and mediocre society | No one caressed me; everyone insulted me |
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He tends to be spot-on in astute recognition of human fallacies, which fuels his cynicism | And another favorite of mine |
He is very well-aware and almost alarmed by his purposelessness and a tendency towards self-destruction.
19Yonder, at an immense height, is the golden fringe of the snow | If the answer is NO, you better not read this book and also my super- superfluous words |
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He really wouldn't be out of place | This book raises the questions of why we do somehow, irrationally, get attracted to such characters |
I decided that I am not going to write anything about this book which is quite amazing and puzzling in its own ways.
9So the little brat kidnapped his own sister and then he got his beloved horse | The novel is full of everlasting feelings and motives that ruled human beings in ancient times and keep ruling now |
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If there was a choice between youth and wisdom, which way will you travel? He whose lot it has been, as mine has been, to wander over the desolate mountains, long, long to observe their fantastic shapes, greedily to gulp down the life-giving air diffused through their ravines—he, of course, will understand my desire to communicate, to narrate, to sketch those magic pictures | I would like to believe so |
Vanity extends his claws deep inside him.