“But I guess everything in life is a bit disappointing, isn't it?”
“Time, Kate was learning, was like a river. You might put up obstacles, even divert it briefly, but the river had a will of it's own. It wanted to flow a certain way. You had to force it to change. You had to be willing to sacrifice.”
“I do not know what happened with your parents or why they did what they did. But in all the world, I could have wished for no daughter but you.”
“He demanded I tell him all I knew. I refused. He threatened me. Still, I refused. He became irate. He screamed. He spat. He threw plates. Overturned tables. He punched his minister of culture.”
“The ceiling was curved, giving the space a cave-like feel, and it was either very large, very small, or sort of normal-sized.”
“To a casual passerby, his appearance would not have inspired much confidence. His overcoat was patched in spots and frayed at the cuffs, he wore an old tweed suit that was missing a button, his white shirt was stained with ink and tobacco, and his tie--this was perhaps the strangest of all--was knotted not once, but twice, as if he'd forgotten whether he'd tied it and, rather than glancing down to check, had simply tied it again for good measure. His white hair poked out from beneath his hat, and his eyebrows rose from his forehead like great snowy horns, curling over a pair of bent and patched tortoiseshell glasses. All in all, he looked like someone who'd gotten dressed in the midst of a whirlwind and, thinking he still looked too presentable, had thrown himself down a flight of stairs.
It was when you looked in his eyes that everything changed.
Reflecting no light save their own, they shone brightly in the snow-muffled night, and there was in them a look of such uncommon energy and kindness and understanding that you forgot entirely about the tobacco and ink stains on his shirt and the patches on his glasses and that his tie was knotted twice over. You looked in them and knew that you were in the presence of true wisdom.”
“Your H-Highness...," Michael stammered, "I-I wish I'd had a chance to prepare some remarks.”
“Boy," Emma muttered, "are they in for it.”
“The girls stared in amazement. Michael was holding a plastic bag bursting with candy. He shrugged. “I snuck into her office last night.” On the platform, Miss Crumley watched with satisfaction as the train heaved into motion. But walking back to the orphanage, she was troubled by the memory of the youngest hooligan, Emma, sticking out her tongue as the train pulled away. Miss Crumley could swear the girl had been eating a piece of licorice. But that was ridiculous. Where would such a child get licorice? When”
“The woman said she had never heard of the town. “It probably doesn’t even exist,” Emma said when the waitress had moved off. “I bet you Miss Crumley was just trying to get rid of us. She’s hoping we’ll get robbed or murdered or something.” “It’s very unlikely all three of us would get murdered,” Michael said, slurping down his hot chocolate. “Maybe one of us, though.” “Okay, you can get murdered,” Emma said. “No, you can get murdered.” “No, you—” “No, you—” They began giggling, Emma saying how a murderer seeing Michael simply wouldn’t be able to help himself, he’d just have to murder him, he might even murder him twice, and Michael replying how there was probably a whole bunch of murderers waiting for Emma to get off the train and how they’d have a lottery to see who got to do it. … Kate just let them go. The”
“The Countess picked up the doll that Annie had dropped and smoothed its patchy hair. “So, the word has already been sent to your men. They’ll find me what I’m looking for, or beginning this Sunday—I do hate Sundays, they’re so dull—beginning this Sunday, your town will lose a child each week I have to wait.” With”
“And what about him saying the book had chosen her, but to access its full power, she first had to heal her heart?”
“Gabriel had not wanted to take Emma. But Granny Peet had insisted. “She is tied to the Atlas. If you find it, you will need her.” “That’s right,” Emma had said. “And you gotta take Dena too. Or I’m not coming.” And so Emma had been outfitted with new clothes and boots and a knife and, an hour after the meeting, she and Dena and the small band of men had been given a blessing from Granny Peet and had set off up the mountain. Gabriel”
“What Falls?” barked a grizzle-faced, squint-eyed man whose age looked to be somewhere between fifty and a hundred and ten. “Cambridge Falls,” Kate said. “It’s across the lake.” “Not this lake. I’d know. Sailed it all my life.” “I told you,” Emma grumbled. “Crummy Miss Crumley’s trying to get rid of us.” “Come on,” Kate said. “It’s almost time for the boat.” “Yeah. The boat to nowhere.” The”
“Your sister is indeed correct,” Dr. Pym said. “Each of the Books of Beginning has a unique name. Technically, the book we are searching for is the Atlas of Time—” “That’s right,” Emma said, nodding seriously. “Technically.” “—but it is usually just referred to as the Atlas, an appropriate name, as the book contains maps of all possible pasts, presents, and futures and allows one to move through both time and space. But now is not the moment to get into all the whys and wherefores.” “Sure,” Emma said, “we can get into those later. All the whys and stuff.” In”
“Upon learning to see a man becomes everything by becoming nothing. He, so to speak, vanishes and yet he’s there. I would say that this is the time when a man can be or can get anything he desires. But he desires nothing, and instead of playing with his fellow men like they were toys, he meets them in the midst of their folly. The only difference between them is that a man who sees controls his folly, while his fellow men can’t. A man who sees has no longer an active interest in his fellow men. Seeing has already detached him from absolutely everything he knew before.”
“I was thinking about stopping at a restaurant. Would you care to join me?”
She shifted in the car seat to face him, causing him to glance at her legs once again. “Are you asking me out?”
“No.”
“Will you purr if I tickle you behind the ears?”
“No.”
“Will you dance the samba for me in your hot pink sequined thong?”
“No.”
“Do you always say no?”
His mouth twitched. “No.”
“Okay, I'll move the lawn chairs. (Axel)”
“Uglier than death backin' outta the outhouse readin' mad magazine and crazy as a football bat.”
“I stood there for a few more seconds, watching her go. And I couldn’t do anything but admire her courage, her compassion. I wanted her. I wanted her so badly I was shaking.”
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