Bokelskere.no

And he made every one of them tell him a tale every night; and he kept that up till he had hogged a thousand and one tales that way, and then he put them all in a book, and called it Domesday Book—which was a good name and stated the case.  You don't know kings, Jim, but I know them; and this old rip of ourn is one of the cleanest I've struck in history.  Well, Henry he takes a notion he wants to get up some trouble with this country. How does he go at it—give notice?—give the country a show?  No.  All of a sudden he heaves all the tea in Boston Harbor overboard, and whacks out a declaration of independence, and dares them to come on.  That was HIS style—he never give anybody a chance.  He had suspicions of his father, the Duke of Wellington.  Well, what did he do?  Ask him to show up?  No—drownded him in a butt of mamsey, like a cat.  S'pose people left money laying around where he was—what did he do?  He collared it.  S'pose he contracted to do a thing, and you paid him, and didn't set down there and see that he done it—what did he do?  He always done the other thing. S'pose he opened his mouth—what then?  If he didn't shut it up powerful quick he'd lose a lie every time.  That's the kind of a bug Henry was; and if we'd a had him along 'stead of our kings he'd a fooled that town a heap worse than ourn done.  I don't say that ourn is lambs, because they ain't, when you come right down to the cold facts; but they ain't nothing to THAT old ram, anyway.  All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances.  Take them all around, they're a mighty ornery lot. It's the way they're raised."

It took away all the uncomfortableness and we felt mighty good over it, because it would a been a miserable business to have any unfriendliness on the raft; for what you want, above all things, on a raft, is for everybody to be satisfied, and feel right and kind towards the others.

I judged she would be proud of me for helping these rapscallions, because rapscallions and dead beats is the kind the widow and good people takes the most interest in.

Mighty soon we'll have the cave so cluttered up with women, and fellows waiting to be ransomed, that there won't be no place for the robbers. But go ahead, I ain't got nothing to say.

but by and by she let it out that Moses had been dead a considerable long time; so then I didn't care no more about him, because I don't take no stock in dead people.

Kjærligheter er ikke alltid av lang varighet. Den varer sjelden lenger enn en bil. Det finnes biler som overlever tre ekteskap. Jeg vet om kjøleskap som har vært vitne til mer enn tyve forelskelser, alle like alvorlige.

“Think of Freddy as Max here: wussy, with lots of feelings nobody asks to hear” she said. “So whenever he’s not onstage, he’s sitting in an attic writin in his diary and then, like, staring out the window.” “Oh. Like a blogger,“ Jake nodded.

She folded her hand underneath her chin and tried to look supportive, like Tyra Banks during the segments on America’s Next Top Model where she counseled models to stay strong in the face of bad weaved or homelessness.

Getting upset over her absentee mother seemed almost too obvious, like something from a bad soap opera but without the hot shirtless men everywhere to distract from the pain.

“You are my daughters,” he said. “You, and Netflix represent my legacy on this planet. So I will not rest until my early work on Cop Rock is available on DVD, and I will not be satisfied until you are the true support system for each other that you both deserve to have.

A calming voice in Brooks’e head (that sounded eerily like Tim Gunn) chimed in that celebrity babies were dominating the tabloids – as were the people holding them. She imagined a “Famous People Feel Things Too” feature in which she tickled the chin of a tot in tiny designer sunglasses while Brick look on with adoration. Embracing her father’s random spawn would make her look so modern and open-minded.

• Hvornår rejser du? spørger jeg.
• Hva mener du - rejser?
• Ja, fordi dine forældre skal et andet sted hen.
• Det ved jeg ikke. Nej, men det varer nok ikke så længe.
• Men vi skal da skrive til hinanden, siger hun. Naiv. Gennemstrømningen er enorm på skolen. Jeg bliver venner med nogen, og så rejser de. Og jeg holder forbindelsen ved lige et stykke tid, men så glider det ud i sandet. Og jeg tror... det tænker jeg hele tiden, at det er lissom når folk dør - det er det samme. En måde at klare det på. De er døde. Jeg har ikke tillid til, at jeg vil se dem igen.
• Skal vi ikke det, Samantha - holde forbindelsen ved lige? spørger Gretchen.
• Jo, siger jeg. Når hun er rejst, er hun død.
• Skal du ikke snart have en kæreste, Gretchen? spørger jeg. - Jeg kan finde en til dig.
• Nej tak, siger hun
• Hvorfor ikke?
• Drenge er nogle svin, siger hun
• Jeg troede ikke du bandede
• Jeg bander ikke
• Hvad gør du så?
• Jeg siger det bare som det er.
• Hmmm, siger jeg
• Jeg vil hellere læse, siger Gretchen og begynder at flette.

Hva er det som utgjør et menneske? Ofte stopper tanken der: Hva utgjør et menneske? Jeg kan ikke svare på det. Av og til tenker jeg at det som skaper et menneske, er evnen til å velge det gode. Andre ganger tror jeg ikke engang at det finnes noe som heter godhet. Hva kreves av oss som kaller oss mennesker? Jeg tror mer og mer at det som kreves av oss, er å skape forutsetningene for at vi kan velge det gode hvis vi vil. En utsultet har ikke de forutsetningene, en som er redd for å miste jobben, har heller ikke de forutsetningene. Det gjør oss umenneskelige. Systemet utnytter dette. Bruker oss.

Jeg er trøtt; som vanlig. Kroppen verker. Den siste tiden har jeg gått ned i vekt; en fjern venn sier at jeg ser frisk ut, en nær venn spør hvor lenge jeg har vært syk.

Den lille kulemagen blir nærmest understreket av det myke og tykke hettegenserstoffet, og når han ser dette, tenker han at ungdomsklær er nettopp det: klær for unge menneskers faste kropper, kropper som har råd til å søle seg til, sjuske seg til, kokettere med billige klær: se jeg går med filler, men jeg er vakker likevel.