She'd obviously read the book many times before, and so she read flawlessly and confidently, and I could hear her smile in the reading of it, and the sound of that smile made me think that maybe I would like novels better if Alaska Young read them to me.
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Looking For Alaska - Pg 81
Looking For Alaska - Pg 80
"So why don't you go home for vacations?" I asked her. "I'm just scared of ghosts, Pudge. And home is full of them."
Looking For Alaska - Pg 75
Five layers, and yet I felt it, the nervous warmth of touching -- a pale reflection of the fireworks of one mouth on another, but a reflection nonetheless. And in the almostness of the moment, I cared at least enough.
Looking For Alaska - Pg 54
She didn't even glance at me. She just smiled toward the television and said, "You never get me. That's the whole point."
Looking For Alaska - Pg 53
"Well, later, I found out what it means. It's from an Aleut word, Alyeska. It means 'that which the sea breaks against,' and I love that. But at the time, I just saw Alaska up there. And it was big, just like I wanted to be. And it was damn far away from Vine Station, Alabama, just like I wanted to be."
Looking For Alaska - Pg 19
"That's the mystery, isn't it? Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape -- the world or the end of it?"
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Along The Watchtower - Pg 295
For a minute she saw each stone as a story, as if the cemetery were a big library full of books nobody else knew how to read, and nobody else wanted to.
Along The Watchtower - Pg 266
Van Zandt knew about some kind of traveling, but not her kind. Sounded like he was traveling on purpose to get some character, not because he had to. Van Zandt had traveling shoes. Lucinda had traveling feet.
Along The Watchtower - Pg 254
She could feel her father's alertness, his tension. He had never been receptive like that, but she could feel his need today, the hole in him howling to be filled. She had the same hole. She also had his bony knees, blue eyes, and tremendous powers of concentration, but this hole was their most striking similarity.
Along The Watchtower - Pg 197
"I believe in everything," he said in an exhausted voice, as if the effort of so much believing had cost him.
Along The Watchtower - Pg 187
She imagined Nately smiling over the noise, his Adam's apple sticking out above the crowd, his fuzz of red hair bleached in the spotlights. Lucinda saw him smiling as he listened to the music and found something at its center, something outside language, tumbling into violence, as the song went off the rails and the lead singer of the Sub Plots screamed like a dying bird. The white-hot center -- Nately was there.
Along The Watchtower - Pg 187
Every system had its uniform, and here was the punk uniform all around her, as regimented as a roomful of GIs in battle-dress uniform, and proof that what may have started as pure emotion had hardened into just another codified set of rules for representing abstractions. The music was real, though.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)