“You know, surprisingly, they don't sell a lot of brains in the local 24-hour grocery store around the corner from my house.”
“I look at her and ask, flat out, "What's up?" Girl talk, of course, for, Back off my man, biotch.”
“The website didn't say how much brains--or even how many--I should eat, only that I should eat them in 48 hours OR ELSE. Why doesn't anyone pay attention to details anymore? Would it be so hard to add a simple line like, BTW, Maddy, 3 pounds of brains per week is plenty?
Seriously, am I the first new zombie ever to ask?”
“What is this?" I ask, trying to sound brave and flip, and I'm sure, merely coming off as too loud and annoying. "Strip grocery shopping? If it is, I have to tell you I've got on 16 pairs of underwear, so you're going to lose big-time--”
“Stamp: "Fine Maddy, Whatever. Take your little punk loser to the dance. I don't need you, Maddy. I can ask two dozen, three dozen chicks right now to go with me." Maddy: "Well then," I guess you better start stocking up on corsages.”
“…I had a good title already. My book was originally called Loser: A Brief History of Notable Failures. But American publishers don’t like this. Losing is a bad thing in our country. It’s not allowed.”
“Ay, cómo trabajaban las chicas entonces; antes del amanecer ya estaban en pie, muertas de sueño, para disponer veinte o treinta fuegos. Barrer, fregar, limpiar y pulir se hacía sólo para volver a hacerlo. Lavar montañas de vajilla y cubertería, corretear escaleras arriba y abajo; y aquellas campanillas irascibles que empezaban a resonar como en una rabieta… Justo cuando lograbas sentarte un instante.”
“The silver trout were so numerous that if every one had turned into a star, the river would have been shining with light; a man out on a skiff sould then be able to find his way past Hamilton, all the way into Boston, guided by a shimmering band of water.”
“Sii la mia schiava d’amore,” I purr.
Her expression is guarded. “What did you say?”
An amused smile pulls at my lips. “I’ll never tell.” Somehow, I don’t think she’d agree to be my love slave anyway.”
“checked out the mirror to see if I looked older, or sadder, or wiser. I didn’t; I just looked tired.”
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