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Bruno’s 2023 Year in Books
Take a look at Bruno’s Year in Books. The long, the short—it’s all here.
Bruno Nogueira’s Followers (2)
610 books
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100 friends
984 books
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187 friends
201 books
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59 friends
40 books
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128 friends
279 books
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9 friends
105 books
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30 friends
33 books
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20 friends
0 books
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1 friend
More friends…
Bruno Nogueira
Goodreads Author
Member Since
July 2016
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A síndrome do impostor
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Grito Distante
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
Bruno’s Recent Updates
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sou apaixonado nesse livro
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Bruno Nogueira
rated a book really liked it
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Bruno Nogueira
rated a book really liked it
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Bruno Nogueira
rated a book it was amazing
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Bruno Nogueira
rated a book really liked it
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Bruno Nogueira
rated a book really liked it
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Bruno Nogueira
rated a book really liked it
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Bruno Nogueira
rated a book really liked it
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Bruno Nogueira
rated a book really liked it
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Bruno Nogueira
rated a book really liked it
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“...do you like to write?"
"No. No writer really likes to write. I like to make love and drink wine. At my age I shouldn't lose time with anything else, but I can't stop writing. It's a disease.”
― Feliz Ano Novo
"No. No writer really likes to write. I like to make love and drink wine. At my age I shouldn't lose time with anything else, but I can't stop writing. It's a disease.”
― Feliz Ano Novo
“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.”
― Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar:
I love not Man the less, but Nature more,
From these our interviews, in which I steal
From all I may be, or have been before,
To mingle with the Universe, and feel
What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.”
― Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
