Junker nicolas (14 resultados)

PAP. Condición: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

PAP. Condición: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

PAP. Condición: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

PAP. Condición: New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000.

Condición: very good. Photo non contractuelle. Envoi rapide et soigné.

Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. There is, in this book, a crime. Inside it were abandoned dreams, feelings, and ideas of someone - all in the form of still unfinished poems. The crime, however, is simple: to give faith, hope, that one day they would be corrected and would wander around, proud of themselves - but they weren't. And never will be. They had been, until now, waiting perhaps for that gentle gaze that sometimes a father grants his children - a gaze that supports them in what they could become. But no. It won't be today, nor tomorrow. I now confirm: never. This book is, then, an unfair decision. Unfair to them. And, let's be honest, cowardly on my part. It's a lazy and selfish attempt to empty my mind, to free myself from the burden of looking at a folder and thinking about the things I never finished. All that remains for them, from now on, is this tomb of pages. And within it they will be seen, read, remembered - but always like this: incomplete. Like children who, in the eyes of their own father, could have been more - but were not. Not their fault. Never was. Only mine. "XLVI I almost called you, but walked away.And time has stolenwhat's not here today. At the corner of never, we passed so near, That only the distanceremained sincere. And now, perhaps, our stories will define: Two strangers who, almost, found another verse to rhyme." "LVIII I cannot be everything, I cannot want everything, there is no space for everythingin the small suitcase of time. But I can be some things, I can want some things, I can, at least, choose the right ones. And if one day they ask me if it was worth it, I hope to say yes, because within the little that fit, fit everything that was mine." This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.…

Condición: New. Print on Demand.

Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. Hay, en este libro, un crimen. En el fueron abandonados suenos, sentimientos e ideas de alguien - todo en forma de poesias aun inacabadas. El crimen, sin embargo, es simple: dar fe, esperanza, de que algun dia serian corregidas y vagarian por ahi, orgullosas de si mismas - pero no lo fueron. Y nunca lo seran. Hasta ahora habian estado esperando, quizas, aquella mirada gentil que a veces un padre concede a sus hijos - una mirada que los apoye en lo que podrian ser. Pero no. No sera hoy, ni manana. Confirmo ahora que nunca. Este libro es, entonces, una decision injusta. Injusta con ellas. Y, seamos francos, cobarde de mi parte. Es un intento perezoso y egoista de vaciar la mente, de librarme del peso que es mirar una carpeta y pensar en las cosas que no termine. Todo lo que les queda, de aqui en adelante, es esta tumba de paginas. Y en ella seran vistas, leidas, recordadas - pero siempre asi incompletas. Como ninos que, a los ojos de su propio padre, podrian haber sido mas - pero no lo fueron. No fue culpa de ellos. Nunca lo fue. Culpa mia. "XLVI Casi te llame, pero me aleje.Y el tiempo robolo que ya no encontre. En la esquina del nunca, pasamos tan cerca, Que solo la ausenciafue la respuesta. Y hoy, quizas, nuestras historias terminen: Dos desconocidosque casi encontraronun verso que rimen." "LVIII No puedo ser todo, no puedo querer todo, no hay espacio para todoen la pequena maleta del tiempo. Pero puedo ser algunas cosas, puedo querer algunas cosas, puedo, al menos, elegir las correctas. Y si algun dia me preguntan si valio la pena, espero decir que si, porque dentro de lo poco que cupo, cupo todo lo que era mio." This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability.…

Condición: New. Print on Demand.

Taschenbuch. Condición: Neu. Neuware - There is, in this book, a crime. Inside it were abandoned dreams, feelings, and ideas of someone - all in the form of still unfinished poems. The crime, however, is simple: to give faith, hope, that one day they would be corrected and would wander around, proud of themselves - but they weren't. And never will be.…

Taschenbuch. Condición: Neu. Neuware - Hay, en este libro, un crimen. En él fueron abandonados sueños, sentimientos e ideas de alguien - todo en forma de poesías aún inacabadas. El crimen, sin embargo, es simple: dar fe, esperanza, de que algún día serían corregidas y vagarían por ahí, orgullosas de sí mismas - pero no lo fueron. Y nunca lo serán.…

Condición: Assez bon. Attention: Ancien support de bibliothèque, plastifié, étiquettes. Merci, votre achat aide à financer des programmes de lutte contre l'illettrisme. Junker, Anne (ilustrador).

Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. There is, in this book, a crime. Inside it were abandoned dreams, feelings, and ideas of someone - all in the form of still unfinished poems. The crime, however, is simple: to give faith, hope, that one day they would be corrected and would wander around, proud of themselves - but they weren't. And never will be. They had been, until now, waiting perhaps for that gentle gaze that sometimes a father grants his children - a gaze that supports them in what they could become. But no. It won't be today, nor tomorrow. I now confirm: never. This book is, then, an unfair decision. Unfair to them. And, let's be honest, cowardly on my part. It's a lazy and selfish attempt to empty my mind, to free myself from the burden of looking at a folder and thinking about the things I never finished. All that remains for them, from now on, is this tomb of pages. And within it they will be seen, read, remembered - but always like this: incomplete. Like children who, in the eyes of their own father, could have been more - but were not. Not their fault. Never was. Only mine. "XLVI I almost called you, but walked away.And time has stolenwhat's not here today. At the corner of never, we passed so near, That only the distanceremained sincere. And now, perhaps, our stories will define: Two strangers who, almost, found another verse to rhyme." "LVIII I cannot be everything, I cannot want everything, there is no space for everythingin the small suitcase of time. But I can be some things, I can want some things, I can, at least, choose the right ones. And if one day they ask me if it was worth it, I hope to say yes, because within the little that fit, fit everything that was mine." This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.…

Paperback. Condición: new. Paperback. Hay, en este libro, un crimen. En el fueron abandonados suenos, sentimientos e ideas de alguien - todo en forma de poesias aun inacabadas. El crimen, sin embargo, es simple: dar fe, esperanza, de que algun dia serian corregidas y vagarian por ahi, orgullosas de si mismas - pero no lo fueron. Y nunca lo seran. Hasta ahora habian estado esperando, quizas, aquella mirada gentil que a veces un padre concede a sus hijos - una mirada que los apoye en lo que podrian ser. Pero no. No sera hoy, ni manana. Confirmo ahora que nunca. Este libro es, entonces, una decision injusta. Injusta con ellas. Y, seamos francos, cobarde de mi parte. Es un intento perezoso y egoista de vaciar la mente, de librarme del peso que es mirar una carpeta y pensar en las cosas que no termine. Todo lo que les queda, de aqui en adelante, es esta tumba de paginas. Y en ella seran vistas, leidas, recordadas - pero siempre asi incompletas. Como ninos que, a los ojos de su propio padre, podrian haber sido mas - pero no lo fueron. No fue culpa de ellos. Nunca lo fue. Culpa mia. "XLVI Casi te llame, pero me aleje.Y el tiempo robolo que ya no encontre. En la esquina del nunca, pasamos tan cerca, Que solo la ausenciafue la respuesta. Y hoy, quizas, nuestras historias terminen: Dos desconocidosque casi encontraronun verso que rimen." "LVIII No puedo ser todo, no puedo querer todo, no hay espacio para todoen la pequena maleta del tiempo. Pero puedo ser algunas cosas, puedo querer algunas cosas, puedo, al menos, elegir las correctas. Y si algun dia me preguntan si valio la pena, espero decir que si, porque dentro de lo poco que cupo, cupo todo lo que era mio." This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability.…