Om bare tre minutter ville jenta kollidere med den nådeløse betongen på East Avenue. Men nå - mens håret pisket opp som en fane, silkekjolen slo rundt kroppens kurver og den knallrøde munnen var stivnet i en perfekt O av sjokk - nå, i dette øyeblikket, var hun vakrere enn noen sinne.
Noen ganger gløtter hun også utover mot det store, åpne havet. Langt der framme er det en strek - en strek som skiller det mørkeblå havet og den noe lysere blå himmelen. Hva er det forbi den streken? Ramler man utfor jordas kant? Og hvor havner man da? Hos gudene?
"If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that!"
A landscape of decay - but still gloriously and heart-stoppingly beautiful. The sky overhead is a bright blue bowl of almost infinite size, given depth by a massive bank of pure white cloud at the limit of vision that goes up and up and up like a tower.
"She wonders why he did it, and she thinks maybe she knows the answer because when Sergant wiped his arm with spit and waved it under Kenny's nose, it was as though under the bitter chemical smell Sergant had a different smell altogether. And even though the smell was very faint where Melanie was, it made her head swim and her jaw muscles start to work by themselves."
"I guess I didn't have it so bad. Maybe everybody didn't love me, but I wasn't one of those kids that everyone hated, either. I was good in a fight. So people left me alone. I was mostly invisible. I think I liked it that way.
And then Dante came along."
" 'Dobby knows, sir! Harry Potter has to go into the lake and find his Wheezy-'
'Find my what?'
'- and take his Wheezy back from the marepeople!'
'What's a Wheezy?'
' Your Wheezy, sir, your Wheezy - Wheezy who is giving Dobby his jumper!' "
"My heart knocks against my chest as he slowly uncurls himself from the wall, arms folded, and swaggers over to us. "If you're ready, let's go," he says quietly to Margot. Me he ignores altogether."
That's no ordinary flute, and Nessa is no ordinary girl. She's a jinn charmer, capable of hypnotizing my kind with that flute, inlaid with Eskarr glyphs, and trapping us in bottles. I watch her mistrustfully and know that more than ever, we have to get away, and fast. Because now I know where Zhian is.
"The letter drifted to the floor, back to its scattered brethren. Everything around Shahrzad fell to shadow and silence. To the bitterness of knowledge and the brilliance of understanding"
Rommet var enormt, og minnet mer om et vanlig bibliotek enn en magikers hule. Møblene var av mørk mahogoni. Hver eneste vegg var dekket av bokhyller fra gulv til tak. Til og med på gulvet var det bøker. Noen lå i stabler på bord eller var stappet inn i mindre hyller. En stor lenestol ved vinduet så ut som et sted hvor Sherlock Holmes kunne sitte og røyke pipe.- Ha en fin søndag alle sammen!
Jeg vet ikke om jeg skal le eller gråte. Ikke noe menneskelig er fremmed for meg, men den dressen vil jeg ikke ha på meg. Gudene må vite hva slags hodepynt det er snakk om. Og som ung skuespiller hadde jeg allerede prøvd dette med en regissør som viste seg å være et rasshøl. Og voldelig, dessuten.- Ha en fin søndag!
Gudolv Gudvolden frøs til. Det var noe kjent ved personen. Det gikk bare noen sekunder før han visste at han for ikke altfor lenge siden hadde snakket med denne mannen. Om Thomas Mann. På en fasjonabel resturant i Berlin.
“In the garden, the Captain of the Guard stared up at the young woman's balcony, watching as she waltzed alone, lost in her dreams. But he knew her thoughts weren't of him.
She stopped and stared upward. Even from a distance, he could see the blush upon her cheeks. She seemed young—no, new. It made his chest ache.
Still, he watched, watched until she sighed and went inside. She never bothered to look below.”
Jeg pleide å elske makten jeg hadde over menn. Når jeg gikk nedover gaten, svingte og svaiet den mandolinformede baken min for deres stjålne blikk. Så underlig at jeg først ble bevisst på denne makten da den var vekke - eller overført til datteren min; da alle mannfolkøyne istedet klistret seg til den gifteferdige, noen og tjue år gamle kroppen hennes, som ga løfte om babyer.
I turn my attention to the televation. "What are you watching anyway?"- Ha en fin søndag!
"Redemtion."
"Is it any good?"
"It's the most unrealitic piece of shit I've ever seen." He shakes his head. "The epic fight scene looks fucking choreographed. This is an insult to kick-boxers everywhere."
Stemmen hans var en farlig knurring som sendte en skjelving gjennom meg. Jeg kunne kjenne varmen fra den store, faste kroppen hans og den sterke, maskuline lukten av huden hans. Jeg ble mer og mer trollbundet for hvert minutt.
A couple of guys with construction-worker tans and muscles turn to ogle me as we approach. Beside me, Raffe makes a low growl. The guys take one look at him and glance respectfully away.
