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- Miss Lupescu returned from a journey to the chemist’s with a tight ankle bandage, and Josiah Worthington, Bart., who had been buried with his ebony walking cane, insisted on lending it to Bod, who had too much fun leaning on the stick and pretending to be one hundred years old.
- haa that's really funny to picture
- “Does it work? Are they happier dead?” “Sometimes. Mostly, no. It’s like the people who believe they’ll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn’t work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. If you see what I mean.”
- He pulled a crumpled sheet of newspaper from a packing case, flattened it out as best he could, then pushed it underneath the door, leaving only a corner on his side of the doorway. “What are you playing at?” asked Liza, impatiently. “I need something like a pencil. Only thinner…” he said. “Here we go.” And he took a thin paintbrush from the top of the desk, and pushed the brushless end into the lock, jiggled it and pushed some more. There was a muffled clunk as the key was pushed out, as it dropped from the lock onto the newspaper. Bod pulled the paper back under the door, now with the key sitting on it. Liza laughed, delighted. “That’s wit, young man,” she said. “That’s wisdom.”
- that was really smart How do you learn stuff like this stuck in a graveyard all your life?
- If you dare nothing, then when the day is over, nothing is all you will have gained.”
- “Mister Trot?” said Bod. “Tell me about revenge.” “Dish best served cold,” said Nehemiah Trot. “Do not take revenge in the heat of the moment. Instead, wait until the hour is propitious.
dec 1 2015 ∞
dec 1 2015 +
dec 1 2015 +