American Gods - Neil Gailman (2)

The three children went to the local church to hear the traveling preacher on Sundays, and they went to the little school to learn their letters and their fanners; while Essie also made sure they knew the mysteries of the piskies, which were the most important mysteries there were: redheaded men, with eyes and clothes as green as a river and turned-up noses, funny, squinting men who would, if they got a mind to, turn you and twist you and lead you out of your way, unless you had salt in your pocket, or a little bread. When the children went off to school, they each of them carried a little salt in one pocket, a little bread in the other, the old symbols of life and the earth, to make sure they came safely home once more, and they always did.

Fahrenheit 451 - Ray Bradbury (7)

'Stuff your eyes with wonder,' he said, 'live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic then any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that,' he said, 'shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass'.

American Gods - Neil Gaiman (1)

"How was the funeral?" he asked.
"It's over," said Shadow.
"You want to talk about it?"
"No," said Shadow.
"Good." Wednesday grinned. "Too much talking these days. Talk talk talk. This country would get along much better if people learned how to suffer in silence."

Fahrenheit 451 - Ray Bradbury (6)

Most of us can't rush around, talking to everyone, know all the cities in the world, we haven't time, money or that many friends. The things you're looking for, Montag, are in the world, but only way the average chap will ever see ninety-nine per cent of them is in a book. Don't ask for guarantees. And don't look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least knowing you were headed for shore.

A Clockwork Orange - Anthony Burgess (1)

Then while he went hauwww hauww hauww like a doggie I tried the same style as for Georgie, banking all on one move-up, cross, cut-and I felt the britva go just deep enough in the meat of old Dim's wrist and he dropped his snaking oozy yelping like a little child. Then he tried to drink in all the blood from his wrist and howl at the same time, and there was to much krovvy to drink and he went bubble bubble, the red like fountaining our lovely, but not for very long.

The Old Man and the Sea - Ernest Hemingway (1)

The old man drank his coffee slowly. It was all he would have all day and he knew that he should take it. For a long time now eating had bored him and he never carried a lunch. He had a bottle of water in the bow of the skiff and that was all he needed for the day.

The Stranger - Albert Camus (1)

I remember it was a Sunday, and that put me off; I've never cared for Sundays. So I turned my head and lazily sniffed the smell of brine that Marie's head had left on the pillow. I slept until ten. After that I stayed in bed until noon, smoking cigarettes. I decided not to lunch at Céleste's restaurant as I usually did; they'd be sure to pester me with questions, and I disliked being questioned.
So I fried some eggs and ate them off the pan. I did without bread as there wasn't any left, and I couldn't be bothered going down to buy it.

On the Road - Jack Kerouac (3)

In the West he'd spent a third of his time in the poolhall, a third in jail, and a third in the public library. They'd seen him rushing eagerly down the winter streets, bareheaded, carrying books to the poolhall, or climbing trees to get into the attics of buddies where he spent days reading or hiding from the law.

Fahrenheit 451 - Ray Bradbury (5)

All the minor minor minorities with their navels to be kept clean. Authors, full of evil thoughts, lock up your typewriters. They did. Magazines became a nice blend of vanilla tapioca. Books, so the damned snobbish critics said, were dishwater. No wonder books stopped selling, the critics said. But the public, knowing what it wanted, spinning happily, let the comic book survive. And the three-dimensional sex-magazines, of course. There you have it, Montag, It didn't come from the Government, no censorship, to start with, no! Technology, mass exploitation, and minority pressure carried the trick, thank God. Today, thanks to them, you stay happy all the time, you are allowed to read comics, the good old confessions, or trade journals."

The Housekeeper + The Professor - Yoko Ogawa (1)

I remembered something the Professor had said: "The mathematical order is beautiful precisely because it has no effect on the real world. Life isn't going to be easier, nor is anyone going to make a fortune, just because they know something about prime number. Of course, lots of mathematical discoveries have practical applications, no matter how esoteric they may seem. Research on ellipses made it possible to determine the orbits of the planets, and Einstein used non-Euclidean geometry to describe the form of the universe. Every prime number were used during the war to create codes-to cite a regrettable example. But those things aren't the goal of mathematics. The only goal is to discover the truth."