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: 10.09.2010
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: (72), ?(50), , , (51), (9), , , (47), (417), (45), non-fiction(31), (15), (49), (23), (11), (80), (22), (60), (8), (44), (36), * * * * *(105), * * *(253), * *(47), *(7)
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Walter M. Miller A Canticle for Leibowitz (1960)

, 24 2011 . 12:32 +
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Muriel Spark The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1961)

, 23 2011 . 11:51 +
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Truman Capote The Grass Harp (1951)

, 21 2011 . 11:30 +
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Jhonen Vasquez Johnny, the Homicidal Maniac (1995-97)

, 20 2011 . 13:27 +
verbava (free_readings) Jhonen Vasquez Johnny, the Homicidal Maniac

johnny-homicidal-maniac (264x400, 40 Kb)I don't kill people.
Perhaps, it's just another inhibition to do away with. Perhaps not. There's really no way of telling. It's possible I've just never been able to well up so much interest in any person to care enough to end their life.

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Let's be brave, Shmee. We have to protect Mommy and Daddy.
Huh?
No, you're wrong, Shmee. They aren't bad people. They love me. They don't really mean it when they tell me to get kidnapped.

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Any pile of stuned growth unaware that entertainment is just that and nothing more, deserves to doom themselves to some dank cell, somewhere, for having been so stupid! Movies, books, T.V.--they're all just entertainment, not guidebooks for damning yourself!

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Actualy, I can't say that I hate very many people specifically: so few seem real enough to deserve that level of attention.

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The numbing mind-ream of knowing you're alone not because people won't accept you but because you find so little worth accepting. An imposed solitude is better than simply tolerating your company in waiting for something better. So loneliness is not such a terrible thing when you consider that the alternative to thought provoking solace is to be surrounded only by remindings of why that solitude is preferable.

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Alejo Carpentier El arpa y la sombra (1979)

, 19 2011 . 13:48 +
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Jean-Paul Sartre Les Mouches (1943)

, 18 2011 . 10:41 +
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Umberto Eco Lisola del giorno prima (1994)

, 17 2011 . 12:26 +
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Karin Boye Kallocain (1940)

, 14 2011 . 11:16 +
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Flannery O'Connor A Good Man Is Hard to Find (1955)

, 12 2011 . 13:17 +
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Alan Moore, David Lloyd V for Vendetta (1982-1989)

, 10 2011 . 12:26 +
verbava (free_readings) Alan Moore, David Lloyd V for Vendetta

 (262x400, 37Kb)It's over now. You're safe. The past can't hurt you anymore. Not unless you let it.

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While I'll admit that anyone can make a mistake once, to go on making the same lethal errors century after century seems to me nothing short of deliberate.

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- There were haires all round the bath.
- Man's got to have a hobby. Mine's drowing kittens.

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It does not do to rely too much on silent majorities, Evey, for silence is a fragile thing... One loud noise, and it's gone.

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Noise is related to the silence preceding it. The more absolute the hush, the more shocking the thunderclap.
Your masters have not heard the people's voice for generations, Evey... and it's much louder than they care to remember.

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Oscar Wilde Lady Windermere's Fan (1892)

, 08 2011 . 13:17 +
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Leo Perutz Der Meister des Jungsten Tages (1923)

, 04 2011 . 11:24 +
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Flannery O'Connor Everything That Rises Must Converge (1965)

, 03 2011 . 12:21 +
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Elizabeth Gilbert Committed (2010)

, 02 2011 . 11:44 +
verbava (free_readings) Elizabeth Gilbert Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage

 (265x400, 49Kb)I had failed at marriage and thus I was terrified of marriage, but I'm not sure this made me an expert on marriage; this only made me an expert on failure and terror, and those particular fields are already crowded with experts.

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"How did he die, Mai?"
"He died," she said coolly, and that settled it. Her father had died of death. The way people used to die, I suppose, before we knew very much about why or how.

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In the modern industrialized Western world, where I come from, the person whom you choose to marry is perhaps the single most vivid representation of your own personality. Your spouse becomes the most gleaming possible mirror through which your emotional individualism is reflected back to the world. There is no choice more intensely personal, after all, than whom you choose to marry; that choice tells us, to a large extent, who you are. So if you ask any typical modern Western woman how she met her husband, when she met her husband, and why she fell in love with her husband, you can be plenty sure that you will be told a complete, complex, and deeply personal narrative which that woman has not only spun carefully around the entire experience, but which she has memorized, internalized, and scrutinized for clues as to her own selfhood. Moreover, she will more than likely share this story with you quite openly--even if you are a perfect stranger. In fact, I have found over the years that the question "How did you meet your husband?" is one of the best conversational icebreakers ever invented. In my experience, it doesn't even matter whether that woman's marriage has been happy or a disaster: It will still be relayed to you as a vitally important story about her emotional being--perhaps even the most vitally important story about her emotional being.

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Whatever the details, you can be certain that the modern Western woman's love story will have been examined by her from every possible angle, and that, over the years, her narrative will have been either hammered into a golden epic myth or embalmed into a bitter cautionary tale.

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Here comes the single most interesting fact I've learned about the entire history of marriage: Everywhere, in every single society, all across the world, all across time, whenever a conservative culture of arranged marriage is replaced by an expressive culture of people choosing their own partners based on love, divorce rates will immediately begin to skyrocket.

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Julian Barnes Love, etc. (2000)

, 01 2011 . 12:30 +
verbava (free_readings) Love etc

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Richard Brautigan In Watermelon Sugar (1968)

, 24 2011 . 13:31 +
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Erich Fromm Psychoanalysis and Religion (1950)

, 22 2011 . 11:12 +
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Margaret Atwood Good Bones and Simple Murders (1994)

, 20 2011 . 12:43 +
verbava (free_readings) Margaret Atwood Good Bones and Simple Murders

 (266x400, 50Kb)I was in love with a boy called Bill, who was in love with Louise. The other boy, whose name I can't remember, was in love with me. Nobody knew who Louise was in love with.
So we turned out the lights in the cellar and played _Murder in the Dark,_ which gave the boys the pleasure of being able to put their hands around the girls' necks and gave the girls the pleasure of screaming.

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Life isn't fair. Why should I be?

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Men's novels are about men. Women's novels are about men too but from a different point of view. You can have a men's novel with no women in it except possibly the landlady or the horse, but you can't have a women's novel with no men in it.

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I no longer want to read about anything sad. Anything violent, anything disturbing, anything like that. No funerals at the end, though there can be some in the middle. If there must be deaths, let there be resurrections, or at least a Heaven so we know where we are. Depression and squalor are for those under twenty-five, they can take it, they even like it, they still have enough time left.

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_Where have you been all my life?_ they ask.
_Where have I been all my life?_ she replies.

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Arthur Miller Death of a Salesman (1949)

, 16 2011 . 10:37 +
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Audrey Niffenegger The Time Traveler's Wife (2003)

, 14 2011 . 11:30 +
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