“After the bare requisites to living and reproducing, man wants most to leave some record of himself, a proof, perhaps, that he has really existed. He leaves his proof on wood, on stone or on the lives of other people. This deep desire exists in everyone, from the boy who writes dirty words in a public toilet to the Buddha who etches his image in the race mind. Life is so unreal. I think that we seriously doubt that we exist and go about trying to prove that we do.”
“It's almost impossible to read a fine thing without wanting to do a fine thing.”
“He is one of those whom God has not quite finished.”
“He did not often think of people as individuals, but rather as antidotes for the poison of his loneliness, as escapes from the imprisoned ghosts.”
“After the bare requisites to living and reproducing, man wants most to leave some record of himself, a proof, perhaps, that he has really existed. He leaves his proof on wood, on stone or on the lives of other people.”
“Everyone has to be an orphan some time.”
“Yaşamak ve üretmek için gerekli olanları elde etmekten başka insanoğlunun en en çok istediği şey geriye kendisinden bir iz bırakmaktır; belki de kendisinin gerçekten var olduğunu ispatlayacak bir kanıt bırakma peşindedir, bu kanıtı bir tahta üzerine, taş üzerine ya da diğer insanların yaşantıları üzerine bırakır. Bu derin istek herkes de vardır; tuvalet duvarlarına ayıp ifadeler yazan çocuktan kendi imajını insan soyunun zihnine kazıyan Budda’ya kadar Yaşam öylesine gerçek dışı ki… Var olduğumuz konusunda ciddi kuşkularımız olduğunu ve bunu kanıtlamaya çalıştığımızı düşünüyorum.”
“За други това би било просто грешка — рече Кейси, — но щом ти мислиш, че е грях, значи, е грях. Човек сам си създава греховете.”
“Back in Brooklyn, the wind was sharp and the streets were slick and Kat just really wished her Uncle Eddie believed in leaving a key under the mat instead of maintaining his strict stance that anyone who could not break into his Brooklyn brownstone had absolutely no business staying there without him.
“Is there a problem, Kitty Kat?” a voice said from over Kat’s shoulder. Kat’s fingers were frozen and her breath fogged, and she’d had a far too upbeat rendition of “White Christmas” stuck in her head on a perpetual loop for the past eight hours. So, yes, there was a problem. But Kat would never, ever admit it.
“I’m fine, Gabrielle,” she told her cousin.
“Really?” Gab asked. “Because if you can’t handle Uncle Eddie’s lock then someone is going to get a lump of coal in her stocking again this Christmas.”
“It wasn’t coal,” Kat shot back. “It was a very rare mineral from a condemned mine in South Africa, and it was a very thoughtful gift.”
“We are only midway through the central verse of our youth when we see ourselves begin to blacken. ... We had been seduced into thinking that we were immortal and suddenly the affair is over.”
“Falderson," he said quietly to Bahzell in passable Navahkan, "is as stupid as the day is long." He craned his neck to gaze up at the hradani and shook his head. "In fact, he's even stupider than I thought. You, sir, are the biggest damned hradani-no offense-I think I've ever seen.”
“When we get closer, he pushes out both of the chairs across from him. He nods at them and says, “Take a seat.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Am I going to have to woo you before I get my slice?”
He smiles over the pizza that he’s about to bite into. “Yeah, I do believe you’re going to have to.”
With zero self-respect, Amanda takes a seat and says, “That’s no problem with me.”
Honestly. Does she not know how to avoid showing all her cards at once?
When I take a seat, he holds out his hand. “I’m Aaron.”
I take his hand and notice how rough it is. It’s a working hand, one that experiences strenuous hours on the jobsite, day in, day out. “Amelia, and this is my friend, Amanda.”
Aaron nods at Amanda. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure is mine and just so you know, Amelia is single and definitely on the market. Want me to give you her number?”
“Amanda, what the hell are you—?”
“I would love it,” Aaron says, leaning back in his chair while sipping his drink.
Slowly turning toward him, a little stunned, I ask, “You would?”
He nods with all the confidence in the world. “I would.”
“But you don’t know me. I could be a shovel-wielding rabbit killer.”
He leans forward, his chest flexing under his shirt with the movement. “I’ll take my chances.”
Now feeling a little skeptical, I fold my arms over my chest and ask, “Why do you want it?”
He bites down on his straw and studies me for a second before saying, “Can’t let a girl walk out the door without getting her number who’s that passionate about Buffalo chicken pizza. It’s just not physically possible.”
“Aw, he likes you for your crazy; he’s a keeper,” Amanda chimes in with her mouth full of pizza. “It’s 607—”
“Amanda, just be quiet for a second.” Looking at Aaron, I say, “Three Buffalo chicken pizza slices in exchange for three veggie and my phone number.”
“No way.” He shakes his head. “You can’t take all my Buffalo.”
“But I thought you wanted my number.”
“I do.” He leans forward some more, his fresh scent hitting me hard in the chest. “But we both know if I give you three slices, you will have zero respect for me because no man in his right mind would give up three Buffalo slices. No matter how hot the chick is.” Eeep, he thinks I’m hot. “But I will counter you with one and a half slices and a number.”
I sit back now, watching how his smile starts to spread. God, he’s just so . . . yum. He looks like he’s quite a few years older than me. Not just because of his face, but there is something in his eyes that makes him seem older. He’s definitely not in his second year of college like me. Not wanting to fold so quickly, I counter. “Two slices, my number, and a guaranteed date this Friday.”
He sits back, his eyes widen, and that smile gets even bigger. “Fucking deal.” He holds his hand out and we shake.”
“Etsuko had failed in this important way—she had not taught her children to hope, to believe in the perhaps-absurd possibility that they might win. Pachinko was a foolish game, but life was not.”
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