Stieg Larsson · 576 pages
Rating: (40.6K votes)
“She wondered why she, who had such difficulty talking about herself with people of flesh and blood, could blithely reveal her most intimate secrets to a bunch of completely unknown freaks on the Internet.”
“Salander was dressed for the day in a black T-shirt with a picture on it of E.T. with fangs, and the words I AM ALSO AN ALIEN. She had on a black skirt that was frayed at the hem, a worn-out black, mid-length leather jacket, rivet belt, heavy Doc Marten boots, and horizontally striped, green-and-red knee socks. She had put on make-up in a colour scheme that indicated she might be colourblind. In other words, she was exceptionally decked out.”
“I've never had a boy in here," Martin said in a serious voice. "I've never touched another man, as a matter of fact. . . .except for my father. That was my duty.”
“Fantaseó con una cerilla y un bidón de gasolina.”
“Fue así como ocurrió. Lo que antes parecía puro azar adquirió de repente una dimensión diferente.”
“We call them groundsharks."
Sanguine shook his head immediately. "That's a stupid name. Makes them sound like little shark fins slicing through the living room carpet."
"I wanted to call them razorworms," said Persephone.
"That's a damn sight better than groundsharks."
(Eyes of the Beholder)”
“We were not always freaks. Sure, most of us occasionally exhibited freakish behavior. But that’s not the same thing. This is the story of how we became freaks. It’s how a group of Is became a we.”
“All black, of course. Just like his rotting soul.”
“collapsing to his knees on the pile of glass on the floor. The distorted reflection mocked him, laughed at him, pointed the blame back. “I’ll fucking kill you.” He snatched up a shard, his shaking hand pushing the jagged edge into his bare thigh. Electrifying pleasure raced through him. He let his head fall back, his mouth fell open as the glass silenced the evil in his skin. The cuts breathed air into his soul, releasing him from those mental binds—a man freed from the bars of his memories. He dropped the slick glass on the floor, blood dripping down his thigh. He”
“Incidentally, I really agree with those who say that the capacity to forgive says something about the essential quality of a person. I'm the lowest grade.'
'I didn't mean to criticize you.'
'I promise to be better in my next life...”
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