
In predvsem, ker mi je lansko leto do konca izziva zmanjkala le 1 knjiga, sem letos še bolj motivirana, da ga končno spet enkrat dokončam

Moderator: The Book Crusaders
I don’t miss the frustration of youth, the anticipation of love and pain, the paralysis of choices still ahead.
»Wenn du noch einmal unbedingt surströmming, diesen widerlichen Schwedenfraß, essen musst, dann öffne die Dose im Freien und in einem Eimer, und zwar unter Wasser, du Anfänger. Du stinkst erbärmlich.«
Schweden. Es war wunderschön. Und ruhig. Die Wolkendecke riss auf, sanfte Sonnenstrahlen fielen wie ein Mikado aus Gold auf die bewaldeten Hügel und brachten den in einiger Entfernung liegenden Gödselsjö zum Funkeln. Eine idyllische Lüge.
Again Mack stopped and thought. It was true. He spend a lot of time fretting and worrying about the future, and in his imaginations it was usually pretty gloomy and depressing, if not outright horrible. And Jesus was also correct in saying that in Mack's imaginations of the future, God was always absent.
She thought her responsibilities ended at the courtroom walls. But how could they?
Pri nas si ne moremo ustvariti prave predstave o razdaljah. Dlje, kot sem se peljala, bolj sem bila prepričana, da je svet le večji, kot sem si predstavljala, vendar pa ne dovolj velik, da bi človek našel to, kar najbolj išče …
As I got older, I realized more and more the things I found attractive. Like patience and kindness. When I was younger—and a hell of a lot dumber—I’d always gravitated toward hot guys with nice cars. Now, there were things like credit scores to worry about, employment histories, and personality traits that couldn’t be picked up over dinner and drinks.
”Jag ville så gärna tro, att där fanns ett grönt djup i människan, ett hav av oskadd växtkraft, som smälte alla döda rester i sin väldiga behållare och läkte och skapade i evighet ...”
Why, you ask, would starving girls be happy to see this German man? Because Herr Fenstermacher was no ordinary workman. He was a kind, cultured man with a voice like warm molasses. But this was not the best thing. He sang for us. In French. But not just any songs. His own songs, made up of the newspaper headlines of the day. Yes, we knew about some war events just by listening to the distant thud of bombs to our south. But Herr Fenstermacher brought us, at great risk to himself, a gift more precious than gold. News of hope. The name Fenstermacher means “window maker” in German, and he was our window to the world.
Po forumu brska: Ni registriranih uporabnikov in 0 gostov