“She hadn't ascribed to this modern notion of equality between the sexes. Woman were patently superior.”
“If you’re not a criminal, then what are you doing stealing all these swords and things?” For a moment he was silent. Then he rubbed his chin and said, “There’s no name for it in English.” “Oh, is there not? ‘Burglary’ seems descriptive enough.” “Kyojitsu.” He looked levelly into her eyes, not wavering. “False-true.”
“To try to let go was to hold more tightly.”
“I enjoy Mr. Verne’s work,” she went on brightly. “He writes of such exotic places. But you’ve seen all that sort of thing in person. I suppose it’s nothing to you.”
“Of course. Giant squids. Cannibals. Every day.”
“Just—let me hold you. That’s all. Hold you and go to sleep.” He smoothed his thumbs over the back of her hands. “You can tell me everything about tableware.”
She was silent a moment, gazing down at their hands. Then she said, “Would you like to know about holloware or flatware?”
“Flatware. Naturally, flatware.”
“I shall certainly put you to sleep with that. I venture to say you’ll be snoring by the time I get to the runcible spoon.”
“My God. Do I snore?”
“You were decidedly snoring last night, as I was enlightening you upon the nature and arrangement of sideboards. I’m rather a connoisseur of sideboards, but I suppose not everyone enters into my own enthusiasm. Kindly refrain from swearing, if you please.”
“I beg your pardon.” He kissed her nose...”
“In the quarter where the sun should have appeared, the sky was covered by a strange reddish cloud, like smoke, like hot ashes, like a dark pollen that had arisen swiftly, stretching from one horizon to the other. When the cloud moved overhead, it began to rain butterflies on the roofs, the water jars, our shoulders. They were little butterflies, deep amaranth in color, striped in violet, which had come together by myriads in some unknown spot behind the immense jungle, frightened, perhaps, driven away, after multiplying frenziedly, by some cataclysm, some awful occurrence, without witnesses or record. The Adelantado told me that these swarms of butterflies were nothing new in the region, and that when they took place the sun was almost blotted out for the whole day. The burial of the father would have to be carried out by candlelight in a day that was night, reddened by wings.”
“We have to be poor in spirit before we can be filled with the Holy Spirit.”
“Conscious mind is reasoning will. Subconscious mind is instinctive desire, the result of past reasoning will.”
“So that's it," he said. "Three hundred dollars. I wish somebody would come into this country with a seed that had to be worked everyday from New Year's right on through Christmas. As soon as you niggers are laid-by, trouble starts.”
“Any custom is man-made and is therefore a finite attempt to describe an infinity of relationships. It follows as the night from day that any custom necessarily has its exceptions.”
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