Look at that - - (dar e dil novel online reading .txt) 📗
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He realised how poncey she was in the first five min-utes, sitting opposite each other, from the emphatic French manner she pronounced the r talking about her third cycle, that’s how she put it, Doctorat on Derri-da in the Philosophy department at Nanterre, which she had already alluded to in writing, following her graduation from the School of Philosophy at UOA. Currently she was trying to get a teaching position at
- Have you realised that all your female characters are just laughable?
- Geez, you’re just clueless, and you’re the one writing all of it. Babis is the laughable one, who finds something wrong with all of them. They’re all perfectly fine ladies.
+ as if gargling
A fan of Derrida and a far-right wing is oxymoronic; if she’d read him, she wouldn’t have been one. Pure and simple.
Simos Panopoulos - Look at that
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one of the national universities. When he told her that he had just about managed to get a degree in Phys-ics at the University of Ioannina and that, due to not having a penny to his name, even a Master’s degree was definitely out of the question, or – worst of all – that he was currently doing some after-school tutoring to make a living, her disappointment was apparent. A disappointment that only became exacerbated when she finally dragged out of him that not only had he not been in a relationship with someone for over a year and had never had a relationship that lasted more than a year, but that he lacked any experience in cohabitat-ing with the opposite sex as well. As far as his own disappointment was concerned, which he felt from the first tenth of the second when he first saw her come into the coffee shop, and which even a post doc at Sor-bonne wouldn’t wash away, he made sure he diligently kept it under wraps. Fair enough, you wouldn’t, even as a joke, classify her in the category of women with otherwise redeeming qualities but in which men ste-reotypically tend to lump all those there’s no chance in hell they’d ever go to bed with, not even on a de-serted island. She was no Penelope either though, for whom Odysseus left Calypso and her enchanting isle never to return. They shared something in common though. Every time that, during the conversation, she
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