It takes a whole lot longer to dispose of a body than to dispose of a soul, especially if you don’t want to leave any evidence of foul play.
It’s freedom, she says.
It’s poverty, Charlie says. Poverty is always for free.
Our mothers teach us to speak, and the world teaches us to shut up.
Stories are a way of subtracting the future from the past, the only way of finding clarity in hindsight
Colombia is a place where no good action goes unpunished.
I thought that the work of remembering tires us out, even when we’re concerned with pasts not our own (when we’re concerned with our pasts, it not only tires us out, but wears us the way water wears away a rock).
There are no things more cruel than truths about ourselves spoken to us by another that are perceived to be at least half true. Left unsaid and hidden we feel they can be changed or eradicated, in time.
Hvis du scroller deg til nederst på siden med lydboken, finner du flere andre utgaver der, Ellen.
Nobody knew how to be what they were right.
Others live for the lie of love; Echo lives for her lovely lies, loves for their livening.
Yet everyone begins in the same place; how is it that most go along without difficulty but a few lose their way?
“Some of us are transhuman enthusiasts too. This isn’t surprising; we feel or have felt that we’re in the wrong body. We can understand the feeling that any body is the wrong body.”
Reality is water-soluble.
Fra Frankissstein – A Love Story av Jeanette Winterson
Bear Bavinsky sidder i et badekar af kobber og lader hovedet glide ned under det dampende vand.
Fra Den italienske mester av Tom Rachman
Nå har jeg lest ut The Collected Stories of Richard Yates, som jeg begynte på for et knapt år siden. Har hatt sansen for Yates lenge, og har likt alle romanene jeg har lest av ham. Novellesamlingen er på snaue seks hundre sider, og står på ingen måte tilbake for romanene – faktisk liker jeg ham enda bedre som novelleforfatter. En soleklar sekser på terningen og rett inn i den forholdsvis eksklusive favoritt-bokylla mi.
Nå har jeg lest ut The Collected Stories of Richard Yates, som jeg begynte på for et knapt år siden. Har hatt sansen for Yates lenge, og har likt alle romanene jeg har lest av ham. Novellesamlingen er på snaue seks hundre sider, og står på ingen måte tilbake for romanene – faktisk liker jeg ham enda bedre som novelleforfatter. En soleklar sekser på terningen og rett inn i den forholdsvis eksklusive favoritt-bokylla mi.
“Pretty soon he’ll be just like me,” Costello broke in. “Right, Lynch? One foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel.”
There was plenty of liquor flowing, but most of it seemed to be going down my mother’s throat.
FOR A LITTLE while when Walter Henderson was nine years old he thought falling dead was the very zenith of romance, and so did a number of his friends.
Fury. Pure fury. The blood was up. Lost the head completely.
Fra Country av Michael Hughes