Die Wirkung eines solchen Hauses auf seinen Besitzer ist unverkennbar. […] Es ist ein gegenseitiger Austausch von Würde, Bedeutung und Kraft, und jeg… - Theodore Dreiser

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Die Wirkung eines solchen Hauses auf seinen Besitzer ist unverkennbar. […] Es ist ein gegenseitiger Austausch von Würde, Bedeutung und Kraft, und jegliche Schönheit (oder deren Mangel) spinnt ständig wie ein hin und her sausendes Weberschiffchen von einem zum anderen geheime Fäden. Man schneide die Fäden durch, trenne den Menschen von dem, was von Rechts wegen sein Eigen und bezeichnend für ihn ist, und was zurück bleibt, ist ein seltsames Wesen, halb Erfolg und halb Versagen, wie die Spinne ohne Netz, das nie mehr sein wird, was es war, wenn ihm nicht alle seine Würden und Einkünfte zurück gegeben werden.

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About Theodore Dreiser

Theodore Herman Albert Dreiser (August 27, 1871 – December 28, 1945) was an American naturalist author known for dealing with the gritty reality of life.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Theodore Herman Albert Dreiser
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When Caroline Meeber boarded the afternoon train for Chicago, her total outfit consisted of a small trunk, a cheap imitation alligator-skin satchel, a small lunch in a paper box, and a yellow leather snap purse, containing her ticket, a scrap of paper with her sister's address in Van Buren Street, and four dollars in money. It was in August, 1889. She was eighteen years of age, bright, timid, and full of the illusions of ignorance and youth. Whatever touch of regret at parting characterised her thoughts, it was certainly not for advantages now being given up. A gush of tears at her mother's farewell kiss, a touch in her throat when the cars clacked by the flour mill where her father worked by the day, a pathetic sigh as the familiar green environs of the village passed in review, and the threads which bound her so lightly to girlhood and home were irretrievably broken.

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for he could feel their eager eyes and their eager words as clearly as he could hear their scratching pens. And all for the papers — his blanching face and trembling hands — they would have that down — and his mother in Denver and everybody else there in Lycurgus would see and read — how he had looked at the Aldens and they had looked at him and then he had looked away again.

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