“Let me ask you a question Alex. What do you think is the greatest evil on this plant today?"
"Is that including, or not including you?”
“Go to Venice. Find Scorpia. And you will find your destiny.”
“I have a couple of questions," he said.
"Do, please, go ahead."
"My first one is for Yassen Gregorovich." He turned to the Russian. "Why are you working for this lunatic?"
"I sometimes think that I was richer when I was eight years old than most people will be in their lifetime!"
"Do we have to listen to this?" Alex asked.”
“We have an hour before we have to leave," Cray said. "So I thought I might tell you a little about myself. I thought it might pass the time."
"I'm not really all that interested," Alex said.”
“Come join me for some tea so we can discuss how your giong to die”
“You're trying to tell me that everything you've done is for a good cause. You think that all this killing is worth it because of the results. I'm not sure I agree. Lots of people work for charity; lots of people want to change the world. But they don't have to behave like you.”
“It was the garden of a man who wanted to rule the world but couldn’t, and so had cut the world down to his own size.”
“if Cray leaves a kitchen knife lying around, I’m going to shove it somewhere painful…”
“夏草や
兵どもが
夢の跡
The summer grasses—
For many brave warriors
The aftermath of dreams.
- Donald Keene, Travelers of a Hundred Ages, New York, 1999, p. 316 (Translation: Donald Keene)”
“Frederick?
Had she really spoken? Certainly she'd tried, but her voice had failed to materialize and all she heard was the sound of her nightgown ripping as Frederick pulled it over her head and threw it aside.
He was kneeling now between her ankles, pushing at her, forcing her knees apart and then her arms until she was entirely splayed on the bed beneath him.
Nothing was said. Not a word.
Ede felt his hand between her legs, forcing the way for the rest of him. Stop, she wanted to tell him. Stop. I don't understand what you're doing. But nothing - still nothing was said.
He seemed to be raging inside her, moving his hips in a circular fashion, all the weight of his upper body help above her, resting on his arms, his hands pushing down into the mattress.
Stop! But he didn't.
Don't! But he did.
Nothing. Not one word.
The only sound he made was a choking noise in his throat at the end, as tough he might be going to strangle. But when he rolled away from her onto his back, she felt the shudder of his first free breath and she heard him sigh. It was over. Tonight. It was done.
Ede could not bare the thought of seeing him, or of being seen. Still without speaking, she rose from the bed and through the dark, found her way to the bathroom. She had brought the torn nightgown wit her, but when she turned on the light and saw it, she threw it down in the corner. Ruined. Spoiled. Everything.
When at last, she returned to the bed, Fredrick was sound asleep beneath the covers - and nothing - nothing - nothing was said.”
“Ембър много я харесваше и обичаше Круг с такава страст, каквато голяма хрътка с лъскава козина и провиснали бърни изпитва към вонещия на блато, приклекнал край аления огън ловджия с високи ботуши. Круг притежаваше способността просто така, когато му хрумне, да се прицели в ято от най-популярни и възвишени човешки мисли и с един изстрел мигновено да го приземи. Но не можеше да убие смъртта.”
“didn't think of it.” She supposed she should have”
“So I graduated from college with a degree in journalism and was ready to find my dream job at a newspaper in addition to one good man who owned his own car and was certain about his sexuality, my two new, revised qualifying criteria for a potential date.”
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