Nicely done, well written, the story of a boy who was, for all purposes, invisible (until he decided to take charge of his life). I thought the "crime noir" style of the narrative was a little overdone, but i enjoyed it nevertheless. Many kids and adults will identify themselves, sadly or guiltily, with the characters.
Another worthy sequel to Howl's Moving Castle, funny, moving and a little wicked because, admit it, sometimes being wicked is fun!
Quotes:
In the distance somewhere they could now hear the pleasant ringing hum of princesses chatting together.
A funny, smart and moving book about the power of words and their consequences, both good and bad (but mostly good).
Quotes:
Mrs. Granger seemed like a giant. It was her eyes that did it. They were dark gray, and if she turned them on full power, they could make you feel like a speck of dust.
From this day on and forever, I will never use the word PEN again. Instead, I will use the word FRINDLE, and I will do everything possible so others will, too.
A funny and exciting sequel to Howl's Moving Castle!
Quotes:
If I ever marry, Charmain thought, striding across Royal Square with Waif in her arms, I shall never have children. They would make me cruel and hard-hearted after a week.
“I was just beginning to learn that if I drop something on the floor it stays dropped unless I pick it up, and if I make a mess I have to clear it away because it doesn’t go by itself, and then you go and clear it up for me! You’re as bad as my mother!” (Charmain)
“My mother says that laundry breeds if you don’t wash it.” (Peter)
A fun mix of Philip Pullman, C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, Harry Potter, Lemony Snicket and every fantasy universe I have ever heard of.
Three magic books, three orphans... trilogy alert!
I like this book a lot but don't really love it. It was a good read, and an interesting universe to be in. The borrowings from other authors are obvious and in a way they make the book interesting too, make its world comfortable to live in. But i also felt like i was having my strings skillfully pulled by a pro. I felt that this book was written to be successful: the author knows the formula and uses it well. So it doesn't have the same feel of, say, Tolkien, who was just a nerd trying to tell a long story. Still, not bad. I'll probably read the other two when they come out.
Quotes:
The wizards created three great books, which they named the Books of Beginning.
Morum cadi, the deathless warriors [...] hannudin—hope killers, they were called—half-alive ghouls who came up behind you in the darkness and whispered that all the worst thoughts you ever had were true [...] salmac-tar, an ancient race, little more than beasts, who had supposedly given birth to goblins ages ago and lived down deep below the roots of the mountains.
Time, Kate was learning, was like a river. You might put up obstacles, even divert it briefly, but the river had a will of its own. It wanted to flow a certain way. You had to force it to change. You had to be willing to sacrifice.
“The end is near, child. I will be coming for you. Our destinies are one. I will be coming, and when I find you, all the world will dance.…”
Quotes:
PERSONS attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.
All I say is, kings is kings, and you got to make allowances. Take them all around, they're a mighty ornery lot. It's the way they're raised.
It was enough to make a body ashamed of the human race.
it don't make no difference whether you do right or wrong, a person's conscience ain't got no sense, and just goes for him anyway [...] If I had a yaller dog that didn't know no more than a person's conscience does I would pison him. It takes up more room than all the rest of a person's insides, and yet ain't no good, nohow. Tom Sawyer he says the same.
Vivid translation, makes Job come alive.
Quotes:
Any idea about God, when pursued to its extreme, becomes insanity.
His question, the harrowing question of someone who has only heard of God, is “Why me?” There is no answer, because it is the wrong question. [...] He will have to struggle with it until he is exhausted, like a child crying itself to sleep.
Does the rain have a father? The whole meaning is in the lack of an answer. If you say yes, you’re wrong. If you say no, you’re wrong. God’s humor here is rich and subtle beyond words.
self-abasement is just inverted egoism. Anyone who acts with genuine humility will be as far from humiliation as from arrogance
When Job says, “I had heard of you with my ears; / but now my eyes have seen you,” he is no longer a servant, who fears god and avoids evil. He has faced evil, has looked straight into its face and through it, into a vast wonder and love.
(“The Messiah will come,” Kafka said, “only when he is no longer necessary.”)
The very last word is a peaceful death in the midst of a loving family. What truer, happier ending could there be?
Then Job stood up. He tore his robe. He shaved his head. He lay down with his face in the dust. He said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will return there. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken; may the name of the Lord be blessed.”
God damn the day I was born and the night that forced me from the womb. (Job)
My worst fears have happened; my nightmares have come to life. (Job)
After he had spoken to Job, the Lord said to Eliphaz the Temanite, “I am very angry at you and your two friends, because you have not spoken the truth about me, as my servant Job has.
Mais um de Machado de Assis.
Quotes:
Explicações comem tempo e papel, demoram a ação e acabam por enfadar. O melhor é ler com atenção.
O que o berço dá só a cova o tira, diz um velho adágio nosso.
Tudo irá como se realmente visses jogar a partida entre pessoa e pessoa, ou mais claramente, entre Deus e o Diabo.
Pela minha parte creio na ciência como na poesia, mas há exceções, amigo. Sucede, às vezes, que a natureza faz outra coisa, e nem por isso as plantas deixam de crescer e as estrelas de luzir. O que se deve crer sem erro é que Deus é Deus; e, se alguma rapariga árabe me estiver lendo, ponha-lhe Alá. Todas as línguas vão dar ao Céu.
Nele a política era menos uma opinião que uma sarna; precisava coçar-se a miúdo e com força.
O olho do homem serve de fotografia ao invisível, como o ouvido serve de eco ao silêncio.
A sonata trazia a sensação da falta absoluta de governo, a anarquia da inocência primitiva naquele recanto do Paraíso que o homem perdeu por desobediente, e um dia ganhará, quando a perfeição trouxer a ordem eterna e única. Não haverá então progresso nem regresso, mas estabilidade.
A namoradeira de ofício é a planta das esperanças, e alguma vez das realidades, se a vocação o impõe e a ocasião o permite.
Não só de fé vive o homem, mas também de pão e seus compostos e similares.
Que os segredos, amiga minha, também são gente; nascem, vivem e morrem.
Aires não tinha aquele triste pecado dos opiniáticos; não lhe importava ser ou não aceito.
Ouvindo esta conclusão, Aires fez um gesto afirmativo, e chamou a atenção de Natividade para a cor do céu, que era a mesma, antes e depois da chuva. Supondo que havia nisto algo simbólico, ela entrou a procurá-lo, e o mesmo farias tu, leitor, se lá estivesses; mas não havia nada.
O imprevisto é uma espécie de deus avulso, ao qual é preciso dar algumas ações de graças; pode ter voto decisivo na assembléia dos acontecimentos.
A worthy sequel to American Gods. A raucous celebration of the power of stories and music.
Quotes:
YOU KNOW HOW IT IS. YOU PICK UP A BOOK, flip to the dedication, and find that, once again, the author has dedicated a book to someone else and not to you. Not this time. Because we haven’t yet met/have only a glancing acquaintance/are just crazy about each other/ haven’t seen each other in much too long/are in some way related/will never meet, but will, I trust, despite that, always think fondly of each other…. This one’s for you. With you know what, and you probably know why.
IT BEGINS, AS MOST THINGS BEGIN, WITH A SONG. In the beginning, after all, were the words, and they came with a tune. That was how the world was made, how the void was divided, how the lands and the stars and the dreams and the little gods and the animals, how all of them came into the world. They were sung.
Impossible things happen. When they do happen, most people just deal with it.
“Did they really sell this wine here?” “They had a bottle they didn’t know they had. They just needed to be reminded.”
Like all sentient beings, Fat Charlie had a weirdness quotient. For some days the needle had been over in the red, occasionally banging jerkily against the pin. Now the meter broke. From this moment on, he suspected, nothing would surprise him. He could no longer be outweirded. He was done. He was wrong, of course.
It was, he reflected, as he pulled back the bolts, almost comforting how many clichés already exist for people holding guns. It made Grahame Coats feel like one of a brotherhood: Bogart stood beside him, and Cagney, and all the people who shout at each other on COPS.
Daisy looked up at him with the kind of expression that Jesus might have given someone who had just explained that he was probably allergic to bread and fishes, so could He possibly do him a quick chicken salad: there was pity in that expression, along with almost infinite compassion.
