aine came to the Two Rivers. "Even if it means she does become an Aes Sedai!" The corner of his eye caught Lan's raised eyebrow, and he flushed.
"And that is all the reason? You want to spend as much time as you can with your friends from home before they go? That's why you're dragging your feet? You know what's sniffing at your heels,jordans for sale."
Rand surged angrily to his feet. "All right, it's Moiraine! I wouldn't even be here if not for her, and she won't as much as talk to me."
"You'd be dead if not for her, sheepherder," Lan said flatly, but Rand rushed on.
"She tells me . . . tells me horrible things about myself"-his knuckles whitened on the sword. That I'm going to go mad and die! - "and then suddenly she won't even say two words to me. She acts as if I'm no different than the day she found me, and that smells wrong, too,http://www.rolexsubmarinerreplicausa.com/."
"You want her to treat you like what you are?"
"No,rolex submariner replica! I don't mean that. Burn me, I don't know what I mean half the time. I don't want that, and I'm scared of the other. Now she's gone off somewhere, vanished . . ."
"I told you she needs to be alone sometimes. It isn't for you, or anyone else, to question her actions."
". . . without telling anybody where she was going, or when she'd be back, or even if she would be back. She has to be able to tell me something to help me, Lan. Something. She has to. If she ever comes back."
"She's back, sheepherder. Last night. But I think she has told you all she can. Be satisfied. You've learned what you can from her." With a shake of his head, Lan's voice became brisk. "You certainly aren't learning anything standing there. Time for a little balance work. Go through Parting the Silk, beginning from Heron Wading in the Rushes. Remember that that Heron form is only for practicing balance. Anywhere but doing forms,chanel, it leaves you wide open; you can strike home from it, if you wait for the other man to move first, but you'll never avoid his blade."
"She has to be able to tell me something, Lan. That wind. It wasn't natural, and I don't care how close to th
2012年12月30日星期日
2012年12月18日星期二
鍒鎴戣蛋 Never let me go_016
t of picture a kid three years younger might have done. It took him no more than twenty minutes and it got a laugh,montblanc ballpoint pen, sure enough, though not quite the sort he'd expected. Even so, it might not have led to anything--and this is a big irony, I suppose--if Miss Geraldine hadn't been taking the class that day.
Miss Geraldine was everyone's favourite guardian when we were that age. She was gentle, soft-spoken, and always comforted you when you needed it, even when you'd done something bad, or been told off by another guardian. If she ever had to tell you off herself, then for days afterwards she'd give you lots of extra attention, like she owed you something. It was unlucky for Tommy that it was Miss Geraldine taking art that day and not, say, Mr. Robert or Miss Emily herself--the head guardian--who often took art. Had it been either of those two, Tommy would have got a bit of a telling off, he could have done his smirk, and the worst the others would have thought was that it was a feeble joke,chanel. He might even have had some students think him a right clown. But Miss Geraldine being Miss Geraldine, it didn't go that way. Instead, she did her best to look at the picture with kindness and understanding. And probably guessing Tommy was in danger of getting stick from the others, she went too far the other way, actually finding things to praise, pointing them out to the class. That was how the resentment started.
"After we left the room," Tommy remembered,http://www.nikehighheels.biz/, "that's when I first heard them talking. And they didn't care I could hear."
My guess is that from some time before he did that elephant,http://www.cheapfoampositesone.us/, Tommy had had the feeling he wasn't keeping up--that his painting in particular was like that of students much younger than him--and he'd been covering up the best he could by doing deliberately childish pictures. But after the elephant painting, the whole thing had been brought into the open, and now everyone was watching to see what he did next. It seems he did make an effort for a while, but he'd no sooner have started on something,
Miss Geraldine was everyone's favourite guardian when we were that age. She was gentle, soft-spoken, and always comforted you when you needed it, even when you'd done something bad, or been told off by another guardian. If she ever had to tell you off herself, then for days afterwards she'd give you lots of extra attention, like she owed you something. It was unlucky for Tommy that it was Miss Geraldine taking art that day and not, say, Mr. Robert or Miss Emily herself--the head guardian--who often took art. Had it been either of those two, Tommy would have got a bit of a telling off, he could have done his smirk, and the worst the others would have thought was that it was a feeble joke,chanel. He might even have had some students think him a right clown. But Miss Geraldine being Miss Geraldine, it didn't go that way. Instead, she did her best to look at the picture with kindness and understanding. And probably guessing Tommy was in danger of getting stick from the others, she went too far the other way, actually finding things to praise, pointing them out to the class. That was how the resentment started.
"After we left the room," Tommy remembered,http://www.nikehighheels.biz/, "that's when I first heard them talking. And they didn't care I could hear."
My guess is that from some time before he did that elephant,http://www.cheapfoampositesone.us/, Tommy had had the feeling he wasn't keeping up--that his painting in particular was like that of students much younger than him--and he'd been covering up the best he could by doing deliberately childish pictures. But after the elephant painting, the whole thing had been brought into the open, and now everyone was watching to see what he did next. It seems he did make an effort for a while, but he'd no sooner have started on something,
娴峰簳涓や竾閲_Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea_147
鑹查矞鑹筹紝鍏ㄨ韩闀跨潃妫樺埡锛屾槸娆ф床鍗氱墿棣嗕腑缃曟湁鐨勫搧绉嶏級鎴戜及璁″畠鐨勪环鍊间负涓や竾娉曢儙銆傚叾娆★紝鏂拌嵎鍏板矝娴蜂腑鐨勬櫘閫氱硻璐濓紝杩欑璐濆緢涓嶅鏄撴崟鑾枫�傚叾娆★紝濉炲唴鍔犲皵宀涚殑濂囧紓鍞囪礉锛岃繖璐濈殑涓ょ墖鑴嗛叆鐧藉３濂藉儚鏄偉鐨傛场锛屼竴鍚瑰氨瑕佹秷鏁ｄ技鐨勩�傚叾娆★紝鍑犵鐖搰浼柗姘村６褰㈣礉锛岃繖绉嶈礉鍍忔槸杈圭紭鏈夊彾鐘剁毐绾圭殑鐭崇伆璐ㄧ殑绠″瓙锛屾渶涓虹埍濂借礉澹崇殑浜烘墍娆㈣繋銆傚叾娆★紝鏁存暣涓�缁勭殑娲艰礉锛屾湁浜涙槸闈掗粍鑹诧紝浠庣編娲叉捣涓墦鏉ョ殑,http://www.nikehighheels.biz/, 鍙︿竴浜涙槸妫曞偍鑹诧紝鏄柊鑽峰叞宀涙捣涓箒娈栫殑锛屽悗涓�绉嶄骇鑷ⅷ瑗垮摜婀撅紝澹充綔槌炴鏌挎瘮褰�,replica rolex watches, 鏈�涓虹獊鍑猴紝鍓嶄竴绉嶆槸浠庡崡鍐版磱涓噰鍙栫殑鏄熺姸璐濄�傝繖缁勪腑鏈�绋�缃曠殑銆佹渶濂界湅鐨勬槸鏂拌タ鍏扮殑椹埡褰㈣礉銆傚張鍏舵锛屽ソ鐪嬬殑甯︾～纾鸿川鐨勭増褰㈣礉锛岀弽璐电殑瑗垮痉鍒楀拰缁寸撼鏂紭缇庤礉锛屼笂闃戞牸宸存部娴风殑鏍煎瓙鑺辩洏璐濓紝铻洪捒鍏夎緣鐨勭粏绾硅箘璐濓紝涓浗娴风殑缁胯壊甯嗚礉锛岄敟褰㈣礉绫讳腑宸笉澶氭病浜虹煡閬撶殑鍦嗛敟璐濓紝鍗板害鍜岄潪娲蹭綔涓鸿揣甯佷娇鐢ㄧ殑鍚勭鍚勭被鐨勭璐濓紝涓滃嵃搴︾兢宀涙渶鐝嶈吹鐨勮礉澹斥�斺�斺�滄捣鐨勫厜鑽ｂ�欌�欍�傛渶鍚庢槸绾戒笣铻恒�佺嚂瀛愯灪銆侀噾瀛楀褰㈣灪銆佹捣浠嬭洡銆佸嵉褰㈣礉銆佽灪鏃嬭礉銆佸儳甯借礉銆侀搧鐩旇礉銆佹湵绾㈣礉銆佹补铻恒�佺珫鐞磋灪銆佸博鐭宠灪銆佹硶铻恒�佸寲鐭宠灪銆佺汉閿よ灪銆佽褰㈣礉銆佸甫缈艰礉銆佺瑺褰㈣礉銆佺瀛愯礉銆佹１褰㈣礉锛岃繖浜涚簿缇庤剢閰ョ殑鐑疯礉锛岀瀛﹀鎶婃渶缇庝附鐨勫悕璇嶄綔涓哄畠浠殑鍚嶅瓧銆�
鍙﹀锛屽湪鐗规畩鐨勬牸瀛愪腑锛屾憜鐫�鏈�缇庝附鐨勪覆鐝狅紝琚數鍏夌収寰楀彂鍑烘槦鏄熺殑鐏姳锛屽叾涓湁浠庣孩娴风殑灏栬铻轰腑鍙栧嚭鏉ョ殑鐜懓绾㈣壊鐝狅紝鏈夎澏褰㈡捣鑰宠灪鐨勯潚鑹茬彔锛屾湁榛勮壊鐝狅紝钃濊壊鐝狅紝榛戣壊鐝狅紝浠ュ強鍚勬捣娲嬩腑鍚勭杞綋鍔ㄧ墿锛屽寳鏂规捣涓殞铔ょ被鐨勬柊濂囦骇鍝併�傛渶鍚庢槸浠峰�间笉鍙及璁＄殑瀹濈彔锛岄偅鏄粠鏈�绋�缃曠殑鐝嶇彔璐濅腑鍙栧嚭鏉ョ殑銆傚叾涓湁鐨勬瘮楦借泲澶э紝瀹冧滑鐨勪环鍊艰瓒呰繃鏃呰瀹惰揪鎴愬凹鍩冣憼鍗栫粰娉㈡柉鍥界帇寰椾环涓夌櫨涓囩殑閭ｉ鐝嶇彔锛屽氨鏄拰鎴戣涓轰笘鐣屼笂鐙竴鏃犱簩鐨勩�侀┈鏂姞鎻愨憽鏁欓暱
鍙﹀锛屽湪鐗规畩鐨勬牸瀛愪腑锛屾憜鐫�鏈�缇庝附鐨勪覆鐝狅紝琚數鍏夌収寰楀彂鍑烘槦鏄熺殑鐏姳锛屽叾涓湁浠庣孩娴风殑灏栬铻轰腑鍙栧嚭鏉ョ殑鐜懓绾㈣壊鐝狅紝鏈夎澏褰㈡捣鑰宠灪鐨勯潚鑹茬彔锛屾湁榛勮壊鐝狅紝钃濊壊鐝狅紝榛戣壊鐝狅紝浠ュ強鍚勬捣娲嬩腑鍚勭杞綋鍔ㄧ墿锛屽寳鏂规捣涓殞铔ょ被鐨勬柊濂囦骇鍝併�傛渶鍚庢槸浠峰�间笉鍙及璁＄殑瀹濈彔锛岄偅鏄粠鏈�绋�缃曠殑鐝嶇彔璐濅腑鍙栧嚭鏉ョ殑銆傚叾涓湁鐨勬瘮楦借泲澶э紝瀹冧滑鐨勪环鍊艰瓒呰繃鏃呰瀹惰揪鎴愬凹鍩冣憼鍗栫粰娉㈡柉鍥界帇寰椾环涓夌櫨涓囩殑閭ｉ鐝嶇彔锛屽氨鏄拰鎴戣涓轰笘鐣屼笂鐙竴鏃犱簩鐨勩�侀┈鏂姞鎻愨憽鏁欓暱
2012年12月8日星期六
Most of the day he sat with open eyes
Most of the day he sat with open eyes, as if looking into the Valley he had left. It was all so plain now. He had lied. He phrased it "been fed upon lies," but lies are the natural food of boyhood, and he had eaten greedily. His first resolve was to be more careful in the future. He would live straight, not because it mattered to anyone now, but for the sake of the game. He would not deceive himself so much. He would not—and this was the test—pretend to care about women when the only sex that attracted him was his own. He loved men and always had loved them. He longed to embrace them and mingle his being with theirs. Now that the man who returned his love had been lost, he admitted this.
像莫瑞斯这样本性迟钝的人，看上去感觉不灵敏，因为任何事物他都需要花费时间去感受。这样的性子有一种本能，装作好事坏事均未发生的样子，以抗拒侵犯者。一旦被攫住，会有剧烈的感觉，恋爱使这种性子迸发出的激情格外强烈。假以时日，它有能力进入忘我的境界，并传授旁人这样的特性。假以时日，它能堕入地狱的无底深渊。就这样，莫瑞斯的苦恼是从些微的懊悔开始的。失眠的夜晚与孤寂的白昼必然加剧这种苦恼，以致使他陷入狂乱状态，不断受折磨。这种苦恼侵入内心深处，最后触及肉身与灵魂的根源——也就是他曾在昏睡中训练自己予以埋没的那个“我”。终于有所领悟，力量倍增，成长为超人,fake louis vuitton bags。一个个新世界在他的内部瓦解了，废墟堆积如山，他这才发现自己所失掉的是什么样的狂喜，是什么样的心灵交流。
这之后，他们足足有两天没交谈，德拉姆希望越长越好。如今他们所交往的大多是共同的朋友，所以两个人相会是在所难免的。德拉姆了解这一点，就给莫瑞斯写了封冷冰冰的短笺，提出倘若他们的举止让人觉得什么事都不曾发生，对大家都有好处。他补充道：“假若你不向任何人谈起我那恶劣的病态言行，我将感激不尽。我确信你会以听到我的自白时的那种明智态度这么做的,link。”莫瑞斯没有写回信。起初他把这封短笺与假期中收到的那一摞信放在一起，随后将它们一古脑儿烧掉了。
莫瑞斯以为这是苦恼的顶点，然而现世的任何一种真正的苦难才刚刚开始。他们仍得见面。第二天下午打网球的时候，他们发现二人均被列在参加比赛的四个人当中，于是痛苦得难以忍受。莫瑞斯几乎站不住，也不能看了。当他接德拉姆的大力发球时，震得胳膊发麻。后来他们被安排成球场上的搭档。有一次他们的身体相撞了，德拉姆退缩了一下，然而成功地照老样子笑了笑。
此外，德拉姆被认为为了方便起见，应该坐在莫瑞斯那辆摩托车的挎斗里返回学院。德拉姆二话不说就坐进去了。莫瑞斯已经两宿没睡觉了，头昏眼花地驾驶摩托车，转入小巷，用全速急驰而去。前方有一辆满载妇女的四轮运货马车。他径直朝她们猛冲，她们尖声喊叫。他来个急刹车，及时避免了一场惨祸。德拉姆一言未发。正如他在短笺中所表示的，而今他只有当着旁人的面才跟莫瑞斯说话，其他一切交往都得结束。
那天晚上莫瑞斯像往常一样上了床。然而他的头刚一挨枕头，就泪如泉涌。他感到震惊，一个男人在哭！费瑟斯顿豪可能会听见。他用被单抑制着哭泣，并且又踢又跳。他把脑袋往墙上撞，陶器被震碎了。不知是什么人，沿着楼梯走了上来。他立即安静下来，脚步声消失后，也没再出声音。他点燃一支蜡烛，惊讶地看着自己那件撕破了的睡衣和发颤的四肢。他继续哭下去，因为抑制不住。但是倾向于自杀的那一瞬间已经过去了，他把床重新铺了铺，躺下来。当他睁开眼睛的时候，工友正在清理杯盘的碎片。莫瑞斯觉得太奇怪了，连工友都受了牵连。他想知道这位工友是否觉察到了什么，随后又入睡了。第二次醒来，发现地板上有几封信。一封是他的外祖父——格雷斯老先生写来的，谈及当他成年之际举办宴会一事。另一封是学监的妻子邀请他共进午餐（“德拉姆先生也来，所以你用不着害臊。”）。还有一封信是艾达写的，提到了格拉迪斯•奥尔科特小姐。接着，他又进入了梦乡。
并不是人人都会发疯。但是就莫瑞斯而言，疯狂的霹雳将乌云驱散了。他以为风暴是三天之内酝酿成的，其实已经酝酿了六年之久,shox torch 2。它是在任何肉眼都无法看穿的生命的晦暗中孕育出来的，环境使它膨胀。它爆裂了，他却没有死掉。四周充满了白昼的灿烂光辉，他站在朝青春期投下阴影的山脉上，他明白了。
这一天，绝大部分时间他都睁大眼睛坐着，仿佛在俯瞰自己撇下的那个幽谷。如今一切都洞若观火。原来他是在虚伪中生活过来的。他称之为“靠虚伪喂大的”。然而虚伪是少年时代的天然养料，他曾狼吞虎咽过。他首先打定主意今后要谨小慎微。从此他将正正经经地做人，并非因为这样一来会对什么人有好处，而是为了能光明正大地行事。再也不要那么欺骗自己了，既然惟一能够吸引他的是同性人，他就别装出一副对女性有兴趣的样子了——对他来说，这可是个考验。他爱的是男人，一向如此。他希望拥抱男性。将自己的人生跟他们的打成一片。如今已失掉那个曾经回报他那份眷爱的男子，他才肯承认这一点。
Chapter 11
After this crisis Maurice became a man. Hitherto—if human beings can be estimated—he had not been worth anyone's affection, but conventional, petty, treacherous to others, because to himself. Now he had the highest gift to offer. The idealism and the brutality that ran through boyhood had joined at last, and twined into love. No one might want such love, but he could not feel ashamed of it, because it was "he," neither body or soul, nor body and soul, but "he" working through both,nike heels. He still suffered, yet a sense of triumph had come elsewhere. Pain had shown him a niche behind the world's judge-ments, whither he could withdraw.
There was still much to learn, and years passed before he ex-plored certain abysses in his being—horrible enough they were. But he discovered the method and looked no more at scratches in the sand. He had awoken too late for happiness, but not for strength, and could feel an austere joy, as of a warrior who is homeless but stands fully armed.
像莫瑞斯这样本性迟钝的人，看上去感觉不灵敏，因为任何事物他都需要花费时间去感受。这样的性子有一种本能，装作好事坏事均未发生的样子，以抗拒侵犯者。一旦被攫住，会有剧烈的感觉，恋爱使这种性子迸发出的激情格外强烈。假以时日，它有能力进入忘我的境界，并传授旁人这样的特性。假以时日，它能堕入地狱的无底深渊。就这样，莫瑞斯的苦恼是从些微的懊悔开始的。失眠的夜晚与孤寂的白昼必然加剧这种苦恼，以致使他陷入狂乱状态，不断受折磨。这种苦恼侵入内心深处，最后触及肉身与灵魂的根源——也就是他曾在昏睡中训练自己予以埋没的那个“我”。终于有所领悟，力量倍增，成长为超人,fake louis vuitton bags。一个个新世界在他的内部瓦解了，废墟堆积如山，他这才发现自己所失掉的是什么样的狂喜，是什么样的心灵交流。
这之后，他们足足有两天没交谈，德拉姆希望越长越好。如今他们所交往的大多是共同的朋友，所以两个人相会是在所难免的。德拉姆了解这一点，就给莫瑞斯写了封冷冰冰的短笺，提出倘若他们的举止让人觉得什么事都不曾发生，对大家都有好处。他补充道：“假若你不向任何人谈起我那恶劣的病态言行，我将感激不尽。我确信你会以听到我的自白时的那种明智态度这么做的,link。”莫瑞斯没有写回信。起初他把这封短笺与假期中收到的那一摞信放在一起，随后将它们一古脑儿烧掉了。
莫瑞斯以为这是苦恼的顶点，然而现世的任何一种真正的苦难才刚刚开始。他们仍得见面。第二天下午打网球的时候，他们发现二人均被列在参加比赛的四个人当中，于是痛苦得难以忍受。莫瑞斯几乎站不住，也不能看了。当他接德拉姆的大力发球时，震得胳膊发麻。后来他们被安排成球场上的搭档。有一次他们的身体相撞了，德拉姆退缩了一下，然而成功地照老样子笑了笑。
此外，德拉姆被认为为了方便起见，应该坐在莫瑞斯那辆摩托车的挎斗里返回学院。德拉姆二话不说就坐进去了。莫瑞斯已经两宿没睡觉了，头昏眼花地驾驶摩托车，转入小巷，用全速急驰而去。前方有一辆满载妇女的四轮运货马车。他径直朝她们猛冲，她们尖声喊叫。他来个急刹车，及时避免了一场惨祸。德拉姆一言未发。正如他在短笺中所表示的，而今他只有当着旁人的面才跟莫瑞斯说话，其他一切交往都得结束。
那天晚上莫瑞斯像往常一样上了床。然而他的头刚一挨枕头，就泪如泉涌。他感到震惊，一个男人在哭！费瑟斯顿豪可能会听见。他用被单抑制着哭泣，并且又踢又跳。他把脑袋往墙上撞，陶器被震碎了。不知是什么人，沿着楼梯走了上来。他立即安静下来，脚步声消失后，也没再出声音。他点燃一支蜡烛，惊讶地看着自己那件撕破了的睡衣和发颤的四肢。他继续哭下去，因为抑制不住。但是倾向于自杀的那一瞬间已经过去了，他把床重新铺了铺，躺下来。当他睁开眼睛的时候，工友正在清理杯盘的碎片。莫瑞斯觉得太奇怪了，连工友都受了牵连。他想知道这位工友是否觉察到了什么，随后又入睡了。第二次醒来，发现地板上有几封信。一封是他的外祖父——格雷斯老先生写来的，谈及当他成年之际举办宴会一事。另一封是学监的妻子邀请他共进午餐（“德拉姆先生也来，所以你用不着害臊。”）。还有一封信是艾达写的，提到了格拉迪斯•奥尔科特小姐。接着，他又进入了梦乡。
并不是人人都会发疯。但是就莫瑞斯而言，疯狂的霹雳将乌云驱散了。他以为风暴是三天之内酝酿成的，其实已经酝酿了六年之久,shox torch 2。它是在任何肉眼都无法看穿的生命的晦暗中孕育出来的，环境使它膨胀。它爆裂了，他却没有死掉。四周充满了白昼的灿烂光辉，他站在朝青春期投下阴影的山脉上，他明白了。
这一天，绝大部分时间他都睁大眼睛坐着，仿佛在俯瞰自己撇下的那个幽谷。如今一切都洞若观火。原来他是在虚伪中生活过来的。他称之为“靠虚伪喂大的”。然而虚伪是少年时代的天然养料，他曾狼吞虎咽过。他首先打定主意今后要谨小慎微。从此他将正正经经地做人，并非因为这样一来会对什么人有好处，而是为了能光明正大地行事。再也不要那么欺骗自己了，既然惟一能够吸引他的是同性人，他就别装出一副对女性有兴趣的样子了——对他来说，这可是个考验。他爱的是男人，一向如此。他希望拥抱男性。将自己的人生跟他们的打成一片。如今已失掉那个曾经回报他那份眷爱的男子，他才肯承认这一点。
Chapter 11
After this crisis Maurice became a man. Hitherto—if human beings can be estimated—he had not been worth anyone's affection, but conventional, petty, treacherous to others, because to himself. Now he had the highest gift to offer. The idealism and the brutality that ran through boyhood had joined at last, and twined into love. No one might want such love, but he could not feel ashamed of it, because it was "he," neither body or soul, nor body and soul, but "he" working through both,nike heels. He still suffered, yet a sense of triumph had come elsewhere. Pain had shown him a niche behind the world's judge-ments, whither he could withdraw.
There was still much to learn, and years passed before he ex-plored certain abysses in his being—horrible enough they were. But he discovered the method and looked no more at scratches in the sand. He had awoken too late for happiness, but not for strength, and could feel an austere joy, as of a warrior who is homeless but stands fully armed.
It would have been wholly inconsistent with my father's ideas of duty
It would have been wholly inconsistent with my father's ideas of duty, to allow me to acquire impressions contrary to his convictions and feelings respecting religion: and he impressed upon me from the first,Moncler outlet online store, that the manner in which the world came into existence was a subject on which nothing was known: that the question, "Who made me?" cannot be answered, because we have no experience or authentic information from which to answer it; and that any answer only throws the difficulty a step further back, since the question immediately presents itself, Who made God? He, at the same time,mont blanc pens, took care that I should be acquainted with what had been thought by mankind on these impenetrable problems. I have mentioned at how early an age he made me a reader of ecclesiastical history; and he taught me to take the strongest interest in the Reformation,replica gucci bags, as the great and decisive contest against priestly tyranny for liberty of thought.
I am thus one of the very few examples, in this country, of one who has, not thrown off religious belief, but never had it: I grew up in a negative state with regard to it. I looked upon the modern exactly as I did upon the ancient religion, as something which in no way concerned me. It did not seem to me more strange that English people should believe what I did not, than that the men I read of in Herodotus should have done so. History had made the variety of opinions among mankind a fact familiar to me, and this was but a prolongation of that fact. This point in my early education had, however, incidentally One bad consequence deserving notice. In giving me an opinion contrary to that of the world, my father thought it necessary to give it as one which could not prudently be avowed to the world. This lesson of keeping my thoughts to myself, at that early age, was attended with some moral disadvantages; though my limited intercourse with strangers, especially such as were likely to speak to me on religion, prevented me from being placed in the alternative of avowal or hypocrisy. I remember two occasions in my boyhood, on which I felt myself in this alternative, and in both cases I avowed my disbelief and defended it. My opponents were boys, considerably older than myself: one of them I certainly staggered at the time, but the subject was never renewed between us: the other who was surprised, and somewhat shocked, did his best to convince me for some time, without effect.
The great advance in liberty of discussion, which is one of the most important differences between the present time and that of my childhood, has greatly altered the moralities of this question; and I think that few men of my father's intellect and public spirit, holding with such intensity of moral conviction as he did, unpopular opinions on religion, or on any other of the great subjects of thought, would now either practise or inculcate the withholding of them from the world, unless in the cases, becoming fewer every day, in which frankness on these subjects would either risk the loss of means of subsistence, or would amount to exclusion from some sphere of usefulness peculiarly suitable to the capacities of the individual. On religion in particular the time appears to me to have come, when it is the duty of all who being qualified in point of knowledge, have on mature consideration satisfied themselves that the current opinions are not only false but hurtful, to make their dissent known; at least, if they are among those whose station or reputation, gives their opinion a chance of being attended to. Such an avowal would put an end,link, at once and for ever, to the vulgar prejudice, that what is called, very improperly, unbelief, is connected with any bad qualities either of mind or heart. The world would be astonished if it knew how great a proportion of its brightest ornaments — of those most distinguished even in popular estimation for wisdom and virtue — are complete sceptics in religion; many of them refraining from avowal, less from personal considerations, than from a conscientious, though now in my opinion a most mistaken apprehension, lest by speaking out what would tend to weaken existing beliefs, and by consequence (as they suppose) existing restraints, they should do harm instead of good.
I am thus one of the very few examples, in this country, of one who has, not thrown off religious belief, but never had it: I grew up in a negative state with regard to it. I looked upon the modern exactly as I did upon the ancient religion, as something which in no way concerned me. It did not seem to me more strange that English people should believe what I did not, than that the men I read of in Herodotus should have done so. History had made the variety of opinions among mankind a fact familiar to me, and this was but a prolongation of that fact. This point in my early education had, however, incidentally One bad consequence deserving notice. In giving me an opinion contrary to that of the world, my father thought it necessary to give it as one which could not prudently be avowed to the world. This lesson of keeping my thoughts to myself, at that early age, was attended with some moral disadvantages; though my limited intercourse with strangers, especially such as were likely to speak to me on religion, prevented me from being placed in the alternative of avowal or hypocrisy. I remember two occasions in my boyhood, on which I felt myself in this alternative, and in both cases I avowed my disbelief and defended it. My opponents were boys, considerably older than myself: one of them I certainly staggered at the time, but the subject was never renewed between us: the other who was surprised, and somewhat shocked, did his best to convince me for some time, without effect.
The great advance in liberty of discussion, which is one of the most important differences between the present time and that of my childhood, has greatly altered the moralities of this question; and I think that few men of my father's intellect and public spirit, holding with such intensity of moral conviction as he did, unpopular opinions on religion, or on any other of the great subjects of thought, would now either practise or inculcate the withholding of them from the world, unless in the cases, becoming fewer every day, in which frankness on these subjects would either risk the loss of means of subsistence, or would amount to exclusion from some sphere of usefulness peculiarly suitable to the capacities of the individual. On religion in particular the time appears to me to have come, when it is the duty of all who being qualified in point of knowledge, have on mature consideration satisfied themselves that the current opinions are not only false but hurtful, to make their dissent known; at least, if they are among those whose station or reputation, gives their opinion a chance of being attended to. Such an avowal would put an end,link, at once and for ever, to the vulgar prejudice, that what is called, very improperly, unbelief, is connected with any bad qualities either of mind or heart. The world would be astonished if it knew how great a proportion of its brightest ornaments — of those most distinguished even in popular estimation for wisdom and virtue — are complete sceptics in religion; many of them refraining from avowal, less from personal considerations, than from a conscientious, though now in my opinion a most mistaken apprehension, lest by speaking out what would tend to weaken existing beliefs, and by consequence (as they suppose) existing restraints, they should do harm instead of good.
2012年12月5日星期三
Required reading
"Required reading," I said, smiling, embarrassed, "for the serial killer with a bang."
She was dressed in a stylish red pantsuit and a Burberry summer raincoat, a pile of briefs squeezed into her leather satchel. "I figured you could use a drink."
"I could," I said, tapping the book against the desk, "but I'm still on duty." I offered her a bag of Szechuan soybeans instead.
"What are you doing," she snickered, "heading up the department's new Subversive Authors wing?"
"Very cute," I said. "Here's a fact I bet you didn't know. Bill Gates, Paul Allen, and Warren Buffet made more money last year than the thirty poorest countries, a quarter of the world's population."
Jill smiled. "It's good to see you developing a social con-sciousness, given your line of work."
"There's something bothering me, Jill. The fake secondary device outside Lightower's town house. The note on the company form balled up in Bengosian's mouth. These people have made their motive clear. But they're trying to taunt us. Why play the game?"
She balanced a red shoe on the edge of my desk. "I don't know. You're the one who catches 'em, honey. I just put 'em away."
There was a bit of a pause. A stiff one. "You mind if I change the subject?"
"Your soybeans," she said with a shrug,replica louis vuitton handbags, popping one in her mouth.
"I don't know if this'll sound silly. I was a little worried the other day. Sunday. After we ran. Those marks, Jill. On your arms. Something got me thinking."
"Thinking about what?" she asked.
I looked into her eyes. "I know you didn't get those marks from a shower door. I know what it's like, Jill,fake uggs for sale, when you have to admit you're human, like the rest of us. I know how you wanted that baby. Then your dad died. I know you pretend that you can work everything out. But maybe you can't some-times. You won't talk about it with anyone, even us. So the answer is, I don't know about those marks. You tell me."
There was stubbornness in her eyes that suddenly turned fragile, something about to give. I didn't know if I had gone too far, but to hell with it, she was my friend. All I wanted was for her to be happy.
"Maybe you're right about one thing," Jill finally said. "Maybe those marks didn't come from a shower door."
Chapter 32
THERE ARE CRIMES that are brutal and inexcusable,link. Some-times they make me sick, but their motives are open. Now and then, I even understand. Then there are the hidden crimes,Replica Designer Handbags. The ones you are never meant to see. The kind of cruelty that barely breaks the skin but crushes what's inside, the little voice that is human in all of us.
These are the ones that really make me wonder about what I do for a living.
After Jill told me what had been going on between her and Steve, after I wiped her tears and cried with her like a little sister, I drove home in a daze. A pall had clung to her face, a whitewash of shame I will never forget. Jill, my Jill.
My first instinct was to drive over there that night and slap a charge on Steve. All along, the slick, self-righteous prick had been bullying her, hitting her.
All I could think of was Jill, the face I saw on her, that of a little girl. Not the Chief Assistant D.A., top of her class at Stanford, who seemed to breeze through life. Who put mur-derers away with that icy stare. My friend.
She was dressed in a stylish red pantsuit and a Burberry summer raincoat, a pile of briefs squeezed into her leather satchel. "I figured you could use a drink."
"I could," I said, tapping the book against the desk, "but I'm still on duty." I offered her a bag of Szechuan soybeans instead.
"What are you doing," she snickered, "heading up the department's new Subversive Authors wing?"
"Very cute," I said. "Here's a fact I bet you didn't know. Bill Gates, Paul Allen, and Warren Buffet made more money last year than the thirty poorest countries, a quarter of the world's population."
Jill smiled. "It's good to see you developing a social con-sciousness, given your line of work."
"There's something bothering me, Jill. The fake secondary device outside Lightower's town house. The note on the company form balled up in Bengosian's mouth. These people have made their motive clear. But they're trying to taunt us. Why play the game?"
She balanced a red shoe on the edge of my desk. "I don't know. You're the one who catches 'em, honey. I just put 'em away."
There was a bit of a pause. A stiff one. "You mind if I change the subject?"
"Your soybeans," she said with a shrug,replica louis vuitton handbags, popping one in her mouth.
"I don't know if this'll sound silly. I was a little worried the other day. Sunday. After we ran. Those marks, Jill. On your arms. Something got me thinking."
"Thinking about what?" she asked.
I looked into her eyes. "I know you didn't get those marks from a shower door. I know what it's like, Jill,fake uggs for sale, when you have to admit you're human, like the rest of us. I know how you wanted that baby. Then your dad died. I know you pretend that you can work everything out. But maybe you can't some-times. You won't talk about it with anyone, even us. So the answer is, I don't know about those marks. You tell me."
There was stubbornness in her eyes that suddenly turned fragile, something about to give. I didn't know if I had gone too far, but to hell with it, she was my friend. All I wanted was for her to be happy.
"Maybe you're right about one thing," Jill finally said. "Maybe those marks didn't come from a shower door."
Chapter 32
THERE ARE CRIMES that are brutal and inexcusable,link. Some-times they make me sick, but their motives are open. Now and then, I even understand. Then there are the hidden crimes,Replica Designer Handbags. The ones you are never meant to see. The kind of cruelty that barely breaks the skin but crushes what's inside, the little voice that is human in all of us.
These are the ones that really make me wonder about what I do for a living.
After Jill told me what had been going on between her and Steve, after I wiped her tears and cried with her like a little sister, I drove home in a daze. A pall had clung to her face, a whitewash of shame I will never forget. Jill, my Jill.
My first instinct was to drive over there that night and slap a charge on Steve. All along, the slick, self-righteous prick had been bullying her, hitting her.
All I could think of was Jill, the face I saw on her, that of a little girl. Not the Chief Assistant D.A., top of her class at Stanford, who seemed to breeze through life. Who put mur-derers away with that icy stare. My friend.
Amina and Mary vied for my attention
Amina and Mary vied for my attention,replica montblanc pens; but in every house on the Estate, there were people who wanted to know me; and eventually Amina, allowing her pride in my popularity to overcome her reluctance to let me out of her sight, agreed to lend me, on a kind of rota basis, to the various families on the hill. Pushed by Mary Pereira in a sky-blue pram, I began a triumphal progress around the red-tiled palaces, gracing each in turn with my presence, and making them seem real to their owners. And so, looking back now through the eyes of Baby Saleem, I can reveal most of the secrets of my neighbourhood, because the grown-ups lived their lives in my presence without fear of being observed, not knowing that, years later, someone would look back through baby-eyes and decide to let the cats out of their bags.
So here is old man Ibrahim, dying with worry because, back in Africa, governments are nationalizing his sisal plantations; here is his elder son Ishaq fretting over Ms hotel business, which is running into debt, so that he is obliged to borrow money from local gangsters; here are Ishaq's eyes,replica louis vuitton handbags, coveting his brother's wife, though why Nussie-the-duck should have aroused sexual interest in anyone is a mystery to me; and here is Nussie's husband, Ismail the lawyer, who has learned an important lesson from Ms son's forcep-birth: 'Nothing comes out right in life,' he tells his duck of a wife, 'unless it's forced out.'
Applying this philosophy to his legal career, he embarks on a career of bribing judges and fixing juries; all children have the power to change their parents, and Sonny turned Ms father into a highly successful crook. And, moving across to Versailles Villa, here is Mrs Dubash with her shrine to the god Ganesh, stuck in the corner of an apartment of such supernatural untidiness that, in our house, the word 'dubash' became a verb meaning 'to make a mess' ... 'Oh, Saleem, you've dubashed your room again, you black man!' Mary would cry. And now the cause of the mess, leaning over the hood of my pram to chuck me under the chin: Adi Dubash, the physicist, genius of atoms and litter,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots. His wife, who is already carrying Cyrus-the-great within her, hangs back, growing her child, with something fanatical gleaming in the inner corners of her eyes, biding its time; it will not emerge until Mr Dubash, whose daily life was spent working with the most dangerous substances in the world, dies by choking on an orange from which his wife forgot to remove the pips. I was never invited into the flat of Dr Narlikar, the child-hating gynaecologist; but in the homes of Lila Sabarmati and Homi Catrack I became a voyeur, a tiny party to Lila's thousand and one infidelities, and eventually a witness to the beginnings of the liaison between the naval officer's wife and the film-magnate-and-racehorse-owner; which, all in good time, would serve me well when I planned a certain act of revenge.
Even a baby is faced with the problem of defining itself; and I'm bound to say that my early popularity had its problematic aspects, because I was bombarded with a confusing multiplicity of views on the subject, being a Blessed One to a guru under a tap, a voyeur to Lola Sabarmati; in the eyes of Nussie-the-duck I was a rival, and a more successful rival, to her own Sonny (although, to her credit, she never showed her resentment, and asked to borrow me just like everyone else); to my two-headed mother I was all kinds of babyish things - they called me joonoo-moonoo,cheap foamposites, and putch-putch, and little-piece-of-the-moon.
So here is old man Ibrahim, dying with worry because, back in Africa, governments are nationalizing his sisal plantations; here is his elder son Ishaq fretting over Ms hotel business, which is running into debt, so that he is obliged to borrow money from local gangsters; here are Ishaq's eyes,replica louis vuitton handbags, coveting his brother's wife, though why Nussie-the-duck should have aroused sexual interest in anyone is a mystery to me; and here is Nussie's husband, Ismail the lawyer, who has learned an important lesson from Ms son's forcep-birth: 'Nothing comes out right in life,' he tells his duck of a wife, 'unless it's forced out.'
Applying this philosophy to his legal career, he embarks on a career of bribing judges and fixing juries; all children have the power to change their parents, and Sonny turned Ms father into a highly successful crook. And, moving across to Versailles Villa, here is Mrs Dubash with her shrine to the god Ganesh, stuck in the corner of an apartment of such supernatural untidiness that, in our house, the word 'dubash' became a verb meaning 'to make a mess' ... 'Oh, Saleem, you've dubashed your room again, you black man!' Mary would cry. And now the cause of the mess, leaning over the hood of my pram to chuck me under the chin: Adi Dubash, the physicist, genius of atoms and litter,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots. His wife, who is already carrying Cyrus-the-great within her, hangs back, growing her child, with something fanatical gleaming in the inner corners of her eyes, biding its time; it will not emerge until Mr Dubash, whose daily life was spent working with the most dangerous substances in the world, dies by choking on an orange from which his wife forgot to remove the pips. I was never invited into the flat of Dr Narlikar, the child-hating gynaecologist; but in the homes of Lila Sabarmati and Homi Catrack I became a voyeur, a tiny party to Lila's thousand and one infidelities, and eventually a witness to the beginnings of the liaison between the naval officer's wife and the film-magnate-and-racehorse-owner; which, all in good time, would serve me well when I planned a certain act of revenge.
Even a baby is faced with the problem of defining itself; and I'm bound to say that my early popularity had its problematic aspects, because I was bombarded with a confusing multiplicity of views on the subject, being a Blessed One to a guru under a tap, a voyeur to Lola Sabarmati; in the eyes of Nussie-the-duck I was a rival, and a more successful rival, to her own Sonny (although, to her credit, she never showed her resentment, and asked to borrow me just like everyone else); to my two-headed mother I was all kinds of babyish things - they called me joonoo-moonoo,cheap foamposites, and putch-putch, and little-piece-of-the-moon.
2012年12月4日星期二
So into it and then on Prairie followed
So into it and then on Prairie followed, a girl in a haunted mansion, led room to room, sheet to sheet, by the peripheral whiteness, the earnest whisper, of her mother's ghost. She already knew about how literal computers could be — even spaces between characters mattered. She had wondered if ghosts were only literal in the same way. Could a ghost think for herself, or was she responsive totally to the needs of the still-living, needs like keystrokes entered into her world, lines of sorrow, loss, justice denied? . . . But to be of any use, to be "real," a ghost would have to be more than only that kind of elaborate pretending. . . .
Prairie found that she could also summon to the screen photographs, some personal, some from papers and magazines, images of her mom, most of the time holding a movie camera, at demonstrations, getting arrested, posing with various dimly recognizable Movement figures of the sixties, beaming a significant look at a cop in riot gear beside a chain-link fence someplace while one hand (Prairie would learn her mother's hands, read each gesture a dozen ways, imagine how they would have moved at other, unphotographed times) appeared to brush with its fingertips the underside of the barrel of his assault rifle. Gross! Her Mom? This girl with the old-fashioned hair and makeup, always wearing either miniskirts or those weird-looking bell-bottoms they had back then? In a few years Prairie would almost be that age, and she had an eerie feeling miniskirts would be back.
She paused at a shot of DL and Frenesi together. They were walking along on what might have been a college campus. In the distance was a pedestrian overpass,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots, where tiny figures could be seen heading both ways, suggesting, at least for a moment, social tranquillity. The women's shadows were long, lapping up over curbs, across grass, between the spokes of cyclists. Catching the late or early sun were palm trees, flights of distant steps, a volleyball court, few if any glass windows. Frenesi's face was turned or turning toward her partner, perhaps her friend, a suspicious or withheld smile seeming to begin. . . . DL was talking. Her lower teeth flashed. It wasn't politics — Prairie could feel in the bright California colors, sharpened up pixel by pixel into deathlessness, the lilt of bodies, the unlined relaxation of faces that didn't have to be put on for each other, liberated from their authorized versions for a free, everyday breath of air. Yeah, Prairie thought at them, go ahead, you guys. Go ahead....
"Who was that boy," DL was asking, or "that 'dude,' at the protest rally? With the long hair and love beads, and the joint in his mouth?"
"You mean in the flowered bell-bottoms and the paisley shirt?"
"Right on, sister!"
"Psychedelic!" Slapping hands back and forth. Prairie wondered who'd taken the picture — one of the film collective, the FBI,homepage? Before the stained deep crystalline view she fell into a hyp-nagogic gaze, which the unit promptly sensed, beginning to blink, following this with a sound chip playing the hook from the Everlys' "Wake Up,nike foamposites, Little Susie," over and over. Prairie remembered that she had to be up before sunrise, to prep for breakfast,foamposite for cheap. As she reached toward the power button, she said good night to the machine.
Prairie found that she could also summon to the screen photographs, some personal, some from papers and magazines, images of her mom, most of the time holding a movie camera, at demonstrations, getting arrested, posing with various dimly recognizable Movement figures of the sixties, beaming a significant look at a cop in riot gear beside a chain-link fence someplace while one hand (Prairie would learn her mother's hands, read each gesture a dozen ways, imagine how they would have moved at other, unphotographed times) appeared to brush with its fingertips the underside of the barrel of his assault rifle. Gross! Her Mom? This girl with the old-fashioned hair and makeup, always wearing either miniskirts or those weird-looking bell-bottoms they had back then? In a few years Prairie would almost be that age, and she had an eerie feeling miniskirts would be back.
She paused at a shot of DL and Frenesi together. They were walking along on what might have been a college campus. In the distance was a pedestrian overpass,ugg bailey button triplet 1873 boots, where tiny figures could be seen heading both ways, suggesting, at least for a moment, social tranquillity. The women's shadows were long, lapping up over curbs, across grass, between the spokes of cyclists. Catching the late or early sun were palm trees, flights of distant steps, a volleyball court, few if any glass windows. Frenesi's face was turned or turning toward her partner, perhaps her friend, a suspicious or withheld smile seeming to begin. . . . DL was talking. Her lower teeth flashed. It wasn't politics — Prairie could feel in the bright California colors, sharpened up pixel by pixel into deathlessness, the lilt of bodies, the unlined relaxation of faces that didn't have to be put on for each other, liberated from their authorized versions for a free, everyday breath of air. Yeah, Prairie thought at them, go ahead, you guys. Go ahead....
"Who was that boy," DL was asking, or "that 'dude,' at the protest rally? With the long hair and love beads, and the joint in his mouth?"
"You mean in the flowered bell-bottoms and the paisley shirt?"
"Right on, sister!"
"Psychedelic!" Slapping hands back and forth. Prairie wondered who'd taken the picture — one of the film collective, the FBI,homepage? Before the stained deep crystalline view she fell into a hyp-nagogic gaze, which the unit promptly sensed, beginning to blink, following this with a sound chip playing the hook from the Everlys' "Wake Up,nike foamposites, Little Susie," over and over. Prairie remembered that she had to be up before sunrise, to prep for breakfast,foamposite for cheap. As she reached toward the power button, she said good night to the machine.
But the chief thing at Cypher's was Milly
But the chief thing at Cypher's was Milly. Milly was a waitress. She was a grand example of Kraft's theory of the artistic adjustment of nature. She belonged, largely, to waiting,Fake Designer Handbags, as Minerva did to the art of scrapping, or Venus to the science of serious flirtation. Pedestalled and in bronze she might have stood with the noblest of her heroic sisters as "Liver-and-Bacon Enlivening the World." She belonged to Cypher's. You expected to see her colossal figure loom through that reeking blue cloud of smoke from frying fat just as you expect the Palisades to appear through a drifting Hudson River fog. There amid the steam of vegetables and the vapours of acres of "ham and," the crash of crockery, the clatter of steel, the screaming of "short orders," the cries of the hungering and all the horrid tumult of feeding man, surrounded by swarms of the buzzing winged beasts bequeathed us by Pharaoh, Milly steered her magnificent way like some great liner cleaving among the canoes of howling savages.
Our Goddess of Grub was built on lines so majestic that they could be followed only with awe. Her sleeves were always rolled above her elbows. She could have taken us three musketeers in her two hands and dropped us out of the window. She had seen fewer years than any of us, but she was of such superb Evehood and simplicity that she mothered us from the beginning. Cypher's store of eatables she poured out upon us with royal indifference to price and quantity,moncler jackets men, as from a cornucopia that knew no exhaustion. Her voice rang like a great silver bell; her smile was many-toothed and frequent; she seemed like a yellow sunrise on mountain tops. I never saw her but I thought of the Yosemite. And yet, somehow, I could never think of her as existing outside of Cypher's. There nature had placed her, and she had taken root and grown mightily. She seemed happy, and took her few poor dollars on Saturday nights with the flushed pleasure of a child that receives an unexpected donation.
It was Kraft who first voiced the fear that each of us must have held latently. It came up apropos, of course, of certain questions of art at which we were hammering.
One of us compared the harmony existing between a Haydn symphony and pistache ice cream to the exquisite congruity between Milly and Cypher's.
"There is a certain fate hanging over Milly," said Kraft, "and if it overtakes her she is lost to Cypher's and to us,replica montblanc pens."
"She will grow fat? "asked Judkins, fearsomely.
"She will go to night school and become refined?" I ventured anxiously.
"It is this," said Kraft, punctuating in a puddle of spilled coffee with a stiff forefinger. "Caesar had his Brutus--the cotton has its boliworm, the chorus girl has her Pittsburger, the summer boarder has his poison ivy, the hero has his Carnegie medal, art has its Morgan, the rose has its--"
"Speak," I interrupted, much perturbed. "You do not think that Milly will begin to lace?"
"One day," concluded Kraft, solemnly,fake louis vuitton bags, "there will come to Cypher's for a plate of beans a millionaire lumberman from Wisconsin, and he will marry Milly."
Our Goddess of Grub was built on lines so majestic that they could be followed only with awe. Her sleeves were always rolled above her elbows. She could have taken us three musketeers in her two hands and dropped us out of the window. She had seen fewer years than any of us, but she was of such superb Evehood and simplicity that she mothered us from the beginning. Cypher's store of eatables she poured out upon us with royal indifference to price and quantity,moncler jackets men, as from a cornucopia that knew no exhaustion. Her voice rang like a great silver bell; her smile was many-toothed and frequent; she seemed like a yellow sunrise on mountain tops. I never saw her but I thought of the Yosemite. And yet, somehow, I could never think of her as existing outside of Cypher's. There nature had placed her, and she had taken root and grown mightily. She seemed happy, and took her few poor dollars on Saturday nights with the flushed pleasure of a child that receives an unexpected donation.
It was Kraft who first voiced the fear that each of us must have held latently. It came up apropos, of course, of certain questions of art at which we were hammering.
One of us compared the harmony existing between a Haydn symphony and pistache ice cream to the exquisite congruity between Milly and Cypher's.
"There is a certain fate hanging over Milly," said Kraft, "and if it overtakes her she is lost to Cypher's and to us,replica montblanc pens."
"She will grow fat? "asked Judkins, fearsomely.
"She will go to night school and become refined?" I ventured anxiously.
"It is this," said Kraft, punctuating in a puddle of spilled coffee with a stiff forefinger. "Caesar had his Brutus--the cotton has its boliworm, the chorus girl has her Pittsburger, the summer boarder has his poison ivy, the hero has his Carnegie medal, art has its Morgan, the rose has its--"
"Speak," I interrupted, much perturbed. "You do not think that Milly will begin to lace?"
"One day," concluded Kraft, solemnly,fake louis vuitton bags, "there will come to Cypher's for a plate of beans a millionaire lumberman from Wisconsin, and he will marry Milly."
2012年12月2日星期日
Emily sat in the rocking chair by the window of the pleasant room
Emily sat in the rocking chair by the window of the pleasant room. She had been drinking something from a tumbler and as he entered she put the glass hurriedly on the floor behind the chair. In her attitude there was confusion and guilt which she tried to hide by a show of spurious vivacity.
"Oh, Marty! You home already? The time slipped up on me,fake uggs boots. I was just going down --" She lurched to him and her kiss was strong with sherry. When he stood unresponsive she stepped back a pace and giggled nervously.
"What's the matter with you? Standing there like a barber pole. Is anything wrong with you?"
"Wrong with me?" Martin bent over the rocking chair and picked up the tumbler from the floor. "If you could only realize how sick I am -- how bad it is for all of us."
Emily spoke in a false, airy voice that had become too familiar to him. Often at such times she affected a slight English accent, copying perhaps some actress she admired, "I haven't the vaguest idea what you mean. Unless you are referring to the glass I used for a spot of sherry. I had a finger of sherry -- maybe two. But what is the crime in that, pray tell me? I'm quite all right. Quite all right."
"So anyone can see."
As she went into the bathroom Emily walked with careful gravity. She turned on the cold water and dashed some on her face with her cupped hands, then patted herself dry with the corner of a bath towel,moncler jackets men. Her face was delicately featured and young, unblemished.
"I was just going down to make dinner." She tottered and balanced herself by holding to the door frame.
"I'll take care of dinner. You stay up here. I'll bring it up."
"I'll do nothing of the sort. Why, whoever heard of such a thing?"
"Please," Martin said.
"Leave me alone. I'm quite all right. I was just on the way down --"
"Mind what I say."
"Mind your grandmother."
She lurched toward the door, but Martin caught her by the arm. "I don't want the children to see you in this condition. Be reasonable."
"Condition!" Emily jerked her arm. Her voice rose angrily. "Why, because I drink a couple of sherries in the afternoon you're trying to make me out a drunkard. Condition! Why,UGG Clerance, I don't even touch whiskey. As well you know. I don't swill liquor at bars. And that's more than you can say. I don't even have a cocktail at dinnertime. I only sometimes have a glass of sherry. What, I ask you, is the disgrace of that? Condition!"
Martin sought words to calm his wife. "We'll have a quiet supper by ourselves up here. That's a good girl." Emily sat on the side of the bed and he opened the door for a quick departure. "I'll be back in a jiffy."
As he busied himself with the dinner downstairs he was lost in the familiar question as to how this problem had come upon his home. He himself had always enjoyed a good drink. When they were still living in Alabama they had served long drinks or cocktails as a matter of course. For years they had drunk one or two -- possibly three drinks before dinner, and at bedtime a long nightcap. Evenings before holidays they might get a buzz on, might even become a little tight. But alcohol had never seemed a problem to him, only a bothersome expense that with the increase in the family they could scarcely afford,fake louis vuitton bags. It was only after his company had transferred him to New York that Martin was aware that certainly his wife was drinking too much. She was tippling, he noticed, during the day.
"Oh, Marty! You home already? The time slipped up on me,fake uggs boots. I was just going down --" She lurched to him and her kiss was strong with sherry. When he stood unresponsive she stepped back a pace and giggled nervously.
"What's the matter with you? Standing there like a barber pole. Is anything wrong with you?"
"Wrong with me?" Martin bent over the rocking chair and picked up the tumbler from the floor. "If you could only realize how sick I am -- how bad it is for all of us."
Emily spoke in a false, airy voice that had become too familiar to him. Often at such times she affected a slight English accent, copying perhaps some actress she admired, "I haven't the vaguest idea what you mean. Unless you are referring to the glass I used for a spot of sherry. I had a finger of sherry -- maybe two. But what is the crime in that, pray tell me? I'm quite all right. Quite all right."
"So anyone can see."
As she went into the bathroom Emily walked with careful gravity. She turned on the cold water and dashed some on her face with her cupped hands, then patted herself dry with the corner of a bath towel,moncler jackets men. Her face was delicately featured and young, unblemished.
"I was just going down to make dinner." She tottered and balanced herself by holding to the door frame.
"I'll take care of dinner. You stay up here. I'll bring it up."
"I'll do nothing of the sort. Why, whoever heard of such a thing?"
"Please," Martin said.
"Leave me alone. I'm quite all right. I was just on the way down --"
"Mind what I say."
"Mind your grandmother."
She lurched toward the door, but Martin caught her by the arm. "I don't want the children to see you in this condition. Be reasonable."
"Condition!" Emily jerked her arm. Her voice rose angrily. "Why, because I drink a couple of sherries in the afternoon you're trying to make me out a drunkard. Condition! Why,UGG Clerance, I don't even touch whiskey. As well you know. I don't swill liquor at bars. And that's more than you can say. I don't even have a cocktail at dinnertime. I only sometimes have a glass of sherry. What, I ask you, is the disgrace of that? Condition!"
Martin sought words to calm his wife. "We'll have a quiet supper by ourselves up here. That's a good girl." Emily sat on the side of the bed and he opened the door for a quick departure. "I'll be back in a jiffy."
As he busied himself with the dinner downstairs he was lost in the familiar question as to how this problem had come upon his home. He himself had always enjoyed a good drink. When they were still living in Alabama they had served long drinks or cocktails as a matter of course. For years they had drunk one or two -- possibly three drinks before dinner, and at bedtime a long nightcap. Evenings before holidays they might get a buzz on, might even become a little tight. But alcohol had never seemed a problem to him, only a bothersome expense that with the increase in the family they could scarcely afford,fake louis vuitton bags. It was only after his company had transferred him to New York that Martin was aware that certainly his wife was drinking too much. She was tippling, he noticed, during the day.
What you say certainly sounds plausible
"What you say certainly sounds plausible."
"So we have contracted our field of search to a large book, printed in double columns and in common use."
"The Bible!" I cried triumphantly.
"Good, Watson, good! But not, if I may say so, quite good enough! Even if I accepted the compliment for myself I could hardly name any volume which would be less likely to lie at the elbow of one of Moriarty's associates. Besides, the editions of Holy Writ are so numerous that he could hardly suppose that two copies would have the same pagination. This is clearly a book which is standardized. He knows for certain that his page 534 will exactly agree with my page 534."
"But very few books would correspond with that."
"Exactly. Therein lies our salvation. Our search is narrowed down to standardized books which anyone may be supposed to possess."
"Bradshaw!"
"There are difficulties, Watson. The vocabulary of Bradshaw is nervous and terse, but limited. The selection of words would hardly lend itself to the sending of general messages. We will eliminate Bradshaw. The dictionary is, I fear, inadmissible for the same reason. What then is left?"
"An almanac!"
"Excellent,UGG Clerance, Watson! I am very much mistaken if you have not touched the spot. An almanac! Let us consider the claims of Whitaker's Almanac. It is in common use. It has the requisite number of pages. It is in double column. Though reserved in its earlier vocabulary, it becomes, if I remember right, quite garrulous towards the end." He picked the volume from his desk. "Here is page 534, column two, a substantial block of print dealing, I perceive,Replica Designer Handbags, with the trade and resources of British India. Jot down the words, Watson! Number thirteen is 'Mahratta.' Not, I fear, a very auspicious beginning. Number one hundred and twenty-seven is 'Government'; which at least makes sense, though somewhat irrelevant to ourselves and Professor Moriarty. Now let us try again. What does the Mahratta government do? Alas! the next word is 'pig's-bristles.' We are undone, my good Watson! It is finished!"
He had spoken in jesting vein, but the twitching of his bushy eyebrows bespoke his disappointment and irritation. I sat helpless and unhappy, staring into the fire. A long silence was broken by a sudden exclamation from Holmes, who dashed at a cupboard, from which he emerged with a second yellow-covered volume in his hand.
"We pay the price, Watson, for being too up-to-date!" he cried. "We are before our time, and suffer the usual penalties. Being the seventh of January,replica gucci bags, we have very properly laid in the new almanac. It is more than likely that Porlock took his message from the old one. No doubt he would have told us so had his letter of explanation been written. Now let us see what page 534 has in store for us. Number thirteen is 'There,' which is much more promising. Number one hundred and twenty-seven is 'is'--'There is' "--Holmes's eyes were gleaming with excitement, and his thin, nervous fingers twitched as he counted the words-- "'danger.' Ha! Ha! Capital! Put that down, Watson. 'There is danger--may--come--very--soon--one.' Then we have the name 'Douglas'--'rich--country--now--at--Birlstone--House--Birlstone-- confidence--is--pressing.' There,replica montblanc pens, Watson! What do you think of pure reason and its fruit? If the green-grocer had such a thing as a laurel wreath, I should send Billy round for it."
"So we have contracted our field of search to a large book, printed in double columns and in common use."
"The Bible!" I cried triumphantly.
"Good, Watson, good! But not, if I may say so, quite good enough! Even if I accepted the compliment for myself I could hardly name any volume which would be less likely to lie at the elbow of one of Moriarty's associates. Besides, the editions of Holy Writ are so numerous that he could hardly suppose that two copies would have the same pagination. This is clearly a book which is standardized. He knows for certain that his page 534 will exactly agree with my page 534."
"But very few books would correspond with that."
"Exactly. Therein lies our salvation. Our search is narrowed down to standardized books which anyone may be supposed to possess."
"Bradshaw!"
"There are difficulties, Watson. The vocabulary of Bradshaw is nervous and terse, but limited. The selection of words would hardly lend itself to the sending of general messages. We will eliminate Bradshaw. The dictionary is, I fear, inadmissible for the same reason. What then is left?"
"An almanac!"
"Excellent,UGG Clerance, Watson! I am very much mistaken if you have not touched the spot. An almanac! Let us consider the claims of Whitaker's Almanac. It is in common use. It has the requisite number of pages. It is in double column. Though reserved in its earlier vocabulary, it becomes, if I remember right, quite garrulous towards the end." He picked the volume from his desk. "Here is page 534, column two, a substantial block of print dealing, I perceive,Replica Designer Handbags, with the trade and resources of British India. Jot down the words, Watson! Number thirteen is 'Mahratta.' Not, I fear, a very auspicious beginning. Number one hundred and twenty-seven is 'Government'; which at least makes sense, though somewhat irrelevant to ourselves and Professor Moriarty. Now let us try again. What does the Mahratta government do? Alas! the next word is 'pig's-bristles.' We are undone, my good Watson! It is finished!"
He had spoken in jesting vein, but the twitching of his bushy eyebrows bespoke his disappointment and irritation. I sat helpless and unhappy, staring into the fire. A long silence was broken by a sudden exclamation from Holmes, who dashed at a cupboard, from which he emerged with a second yellow-covered volume in his hand.
"We pay the price, Watson, for being too up-to-date!" he cried. "We are before our time, and suffer the usual penalties. Being the seventh of January,replica gucci bags, we have very properly laid in the new almanac. It is more than likely that Porlock took his message from the old one. No doubt he would have told us so had his letter of explanation been written. Now let us see what page 534 has in store for us. Number thirteen is 'There,' which is much more promising. Number one hundred and twenty-seven is 'is'--'There is' "--Holmes's eyes were gleaming with excitement, and his thin, nervous fingers twitched as he counted the words-- "'danger.' Ha! Ha! Capital! Put that down, Watson. 'There is danger--may--come--very--soon--one.' Then we have the name 'Douglas'--'rich--country--now--at--Birlstone--House--Birlstone-- confidence--is--pressing.' There,replica montblanc pens, Watson! What do you think of pure reason and its fruit? If the green-grocer had such a thing as a laurel wreath, I should send Billy round for it."
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