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It takes two people to make you, and one people to die. That's how the world is going to end.
Jewel, I say. Overhead the day drives level and grey, hiding the sun by a flight of grey spears. In the rain the mules smoke a little, splashed yellow with mud, the off one clinging in sliding lunges to the side of the road above the ditch. The tilted lumber gleams dull yellow, water-soaked and heavy as lead, tilted at a steep angle into the ditch above the broken wheel; about the shattered spokes and about Jewel's ankles a runnel of yellow neither water nor earth swirls, curving with the yellow road neither of earth nor water, down the hill dissolving into a streaming mass of dark green neither of earth nor sky. Jewel, I say.
I said You don't know what worry is. I don't know what it is. I don't know whether I am worrying or not. Whether I can or not. I don't know whether I can cry or not. I don't know whether I have tried to or not. I feel like a wet seed wild in the hot blind earth.
I said you’d just let her alone. Sawing and knocking, and keeping the air always moving so fast on her face that when you’re tired you can't breathe it, and that goddamn adze going One lick less. One lick less. One lick less. One lick less until everybody that passes in the road will have to stop and see it and say what a fine carpenter he is. If it had just been me when Cash fell off of that church and if it had just been me when pa laid sick with that load of wood fell on him, it would not be happening with every bastard in the county coming in to stare at her because if there is a God what the hell is he for. It would be just me and her on a high hill and me rolling the rocks down the hill at their faces and teeth and all by God until she was quiet and not that goddamn adze going One lick less. One lick less and we could be quiet.
Eirik la ut lista over redaktørenes valg - her er tilsvarende liste over lesernes preferanser. Noe er likt, men ulikhetene er spektakulære. Rimeligvis er det engelskspråklige lesere som har gitt sine stemmer her - noen av de mest populære forfatterne har jeg aldri hørt om! Jeg har lest 37 av disse og har ingen ambisjoner om å lese hele lista!
Er utvalget upåklagelig, og er rekkefølgen det?
Det var hos Independent at jeg fikk øye på favorittbøkene til David Bowie.
Esquire er kanskje et herremagasin, men listen er interessant uavhengig av kjønn.
Bøkene er ikke rangert.
Lenke til den originale listen.