Kip Quotes

Do you know why you feel destined for something greater?” “Why?” Kip asked, quiet, hopeful. “Because you’re an arrogant little shit.

And when it comes to questioning people, I have a lot more finesse than High King Let’s Beat The Shit Out Of Them Until They Answer Us. The nonviolent art of interrogating someone is totally lost on Kip. (Syn)

You got potential, Kip. And you know what potential means? he replied. “Ain’t done nothing yet.

Yeah. Kip gets to guard you and I get to house-sit. Life bites the big tee-tawa. (Syn)

If you’re looking to make a little money on the side like I do, you might want to apply somewhere else. You’d have to wax your legs to make this dress work on you. - Abbey to Kip -

You get mad at me, you kick the tire, I don't get a bruise, the tire doesn't care, and you're the only one hurting. How's that working for you, Kip?

I’m really appreciative you’re taking me and everything, but I’m not exactly a beck-and-call girl. - Abbey to Kip -

Unthinking respect for authority is the greatest enemy of truth,

I want it to be known that I did my utmost to leave in my wake the love Jesus first gave me. ~Mrs. Kip

Authentic love is the greatest joy there is Miss Kelley, but it requires a thousand little deaths to self. ~Mrs. Kip

I am of you," said Kip."I am Guile as much as you are. True, I have a scrap of decency, but only a scrap. How do you think you can treat a Guile with such disregard and get away with it? Because I am you. I'm as cold as you, I'm as smart as you, and when you push me, I'm as evil and cruel as you. I have a thin film of goodness floating on the top of my Guile, grandfather, but I don't know how senile you must be to miss just how thin it is.

I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. And I thought if I was going to die I would die with you. Someone like you, young as I am, I saw so many dying near me in the last year. I didn’t feel scared. I certainly wasn’t brave just now. I thought to myself, We have this villa this grass, we should have lain down together, you in my arms, before we died. I wanted to touch that bone at your neck, collarbone, it’s like a small hard wing under your skin. I wanted to place my fingers against it. I’ve always liked flesh the colour of rivers and rocks or like the brown eye of a Susan, do you know what that flower is? Have you seen them? I am so tired, Kip, I want to sleep. I want to sleep under this tree, put my eye against your collarbone I just want to close my eyes without thinking of others, want to find the crook of a tree and climb into it and sleep. What a careful mind! To know which wire to cut. How did you know? You kept saying I don’t know I don’t know, but you did. Right? Don’t shake, you have to be a still bed for me, let me curl up as if you were a good grandfather I could hug, I love the word ‘curl,’ such a slow word, you can’t rush it...

That is sacrilegious. You just totally dissed man code. If we don’t have man code, the world will fall apart." Kip Paxton

Some segments of this book may be rough going. That's the nature of real science. It requires thought. Sometimes deep thought. But thinking can be rewarding. You can just skip the rough parts, or you can struggle to understand.

Everything likes to live where it will age the most slowly, and gravity pulls it there.

Kip: Don’t be such a pussy, Eaton. Rhett: Better. Thank you.

Kip looked up at him and grinned. Don’t you know what I am? I’m the fucking turtle-bear.

Kip had tasted honey that few in the history of the world had tasted: he’d had meaningful work, and friendship with titans; a great marriage to a strong, good, beautiful woman; and a father who’d been willing to die for him.

An explosion in space makes no sound, as there is no air to transmit the sound waves.

The grave is not my final home. I want to live as if I believe that. By God's grace, I will live because I believed that.~ Mrs. Kip

... your father has two secrets. You, Kip are not one of them.

Kip cleared his throat and gave a brave smile. ‘We destroyed our world,’ he said, ‘and left it for the skies. Our numbers were few. Our species had scattered. We were the last to leave. We left the ground behind. We left the oceans. We left the air. We watched these things grow small. We watched them shrink into a point of light. As we watched, we understood. We understood what we were. We understood what we had lost. We understood what we would need to do to survive. We abandoned more than our ancestors’ world. We abandoned our short sight. We abandoned our bloody ways. We made ourselves anew.’ He spread his hands, encompassing the gathered. ‘We are the Exodus Fleet. We are those that wandered, that wander still. We are the homesteaders that shelter our families. We are the miners and foragers in the open. We are the ships that ferry between. We are the explorers who carry our names. We are the parents who lead the way. We are the children who continue on.’ He picked up his scrib from the podium. ‘What is his name?

Oh, my husband, you beautiful soul. It’s not fair, but that doesn’t mean it’s not good. A marriage breathes, and every exhalation is giving, and every inhalation is taking. It can’t live without both, Kip. So … just … breathe.

...you cannot objectify the subjective; you cannot generalize the specific.

Kip had always liked the idea that courage was a thing a person could hold on to and use.

Tell me, Kip, if you’ve done bad things your whole life, but you die doing something good, do you think that makes up for all the bad?

He reached under the bench to retrieve his crutch. His father had carved the crutch from the branch of a fallen wych elm on the farm back home. It was strong and thick and had just enough spring to be comfortable when he walked. Da named it 'Courage,' saying that all good tools deserved a good title. Kip had always liked the idea that courage was a thing a person could hold on to and use.

Kip nervously cleared his throat and said, "I didn't get into detail about our relationship, although the whole world knows we're a couple because of the on-ice meltdown I had when you were injured.

As they were walked closer, Kip saw that his inference was correct: every single person here was a drafter. There had to be eight hundred or a thousand drafters here! “Orholam,” Karris breathed. “There must be five hundred drafters here.” So I can’t count, so what?

I am serenading you sweetheart,” Kip says, “The way I figure it, you like those idiots who play guitars, so I figure I will learn how to play so I can seduce you. Jagger will understand. I mean he can’t play drums for shit, so you will have no choice but to fall madly in love with my guitar and drum playing skills.” He grins like a Cheshire cat.

I did a lot of hard things. But hard things usually end in the biggest blessings.

I close my eyes and pray that the world will somehow change. But I know it isn't going to change on its own, so I know I must pray for the courage to bring it about.

Fitzroy smiled slowly, like the sunrise. “Let us walk in legends, Kip Mdang.” Cliopher’s heart was hammering. “Yes,” he breathed. “Yes. What—What is your island, Fitzroy Angursell?” “This one.” Fitzroy dropped his hands. The fire at the heart of the world rose up.

ideas cannot be banned.

Everything is drawn inexorably toward the future.

Hard things usually end in the biggest blessings. ~Mrs. Kip

Ours is a God of new life~Mrs. Kip

We should never underestimate the life-changing gift of friendship.~Mrs. Kip

If guns kill people,” Ivy moved next to her uncle and stared down Kip, “Then pens misspell words, cars cause accidents, and forks make people gain weight.

But Kip knew all about the slimy, steep-sided pit of self-pity. Sometimes, a hard kick in the ass can do what a soft word in the ear can’t.

Kip Thorne says, “By 2020, physicists will understand the laws of quantum gravity, which will be found to be a variant of string theory.

She wanted Kip to know her only in the present, a person perhaps more flawed or more compassionate or harder or more obsessed than the girl or young woman she had been then.

ladder. I made a move to climb up, too, and Kip touched

Kip,” I asked, “Would you miss me if I were gone?” “Yes.” I have been thinking about this all night. Do you think more people would survive if someone told them they would be missed?

As a young man he seemed to pine for a bygone world of aristocrats. [In his twenties, he] took to wearing Edwardian three-piece suits with a pocket watch and chain. [discussing Kip Forbes]

Could we kiss for a little bit? ... Humans are the only animal that blushes, laughs, has religion, wages war, and kisses with kips. So in a way, the more you kiss with lips, the more human you are.

...use your love wisely. Give it away for its intended purpose, and don't be afraid to risk loss...Authentic love is the greatest joy there is, Miss Kelley, but it requires a thousand little deaths to self.

I'm afraid of the wind, afraid of its force, but what I didn't realize is that the greater danger lay ahead of me. Kip is my cliff. Every gust of wind pushes me closer. It's only a matter of time before I fall.

Sometimes we do things in life without knowing what ripples flow from it long afterward. ~Aidyn

You have to be the friend people need while they are there with you, because it's the only chance you'll get.

No matter how hard we may try, we can only travel forward. The relativistic laws guarantee it.

Wherever Hana is now, in the future, she is aware of the line of movement Kip’s body followed out of her life. Her mind repeats it. The path he slammed through among them. When he turned into a stone of silence in their midst. She recalls everything of that August day— what the sky was like, the objects on the table in front of her going dark under the thunder.

A leaf is a silent proverb. Did you ever consider that? When it buds on the tree, people rejoice. Throughout is prime, they love it for the shade it provides. But only when it reaches the end of its time on the tree does its brilliance come through. Sometimes yellow, sometimes orange, sometimes deep red. Dazzling in its artistry, like a drop of sunset you can see at all house of the day." Clara smiled. "A leaf has the most extraordinary death. There is so much beauty to it." Mrs. Kip

Amias Mitchell,’ Kip said. ‘Born aboard the Asteria. Forty Solar days of age as of GC standard day 211/310. He is now, and always, a member of our Fleet. By our laws, he is assured shelter and passage here. If we have food, he will eat. If we have air, he will breathe. If we have fuel, he will fly. He is son to all grown, brother to all still growing. We will care for him, protect him, guide him. We welcome you, Amias, to the decks of the Asteria, and to the journey we take together.’ He spoke the final words now, and the room joined him. ‘From the ground, we stand. From our ships, we live. By the stars, we hope.

"Curry powder" is a British invention. There is no such thing as Indian food, Kip. But there are Indian methods... Allow a dialogue between our methods and the ingredients from the rest of the world... Make something new...Don't get stuck inside nationalities.' I would watch the movement of his hands for hours on end. Once the materials stripped themselves bare, Chef mixed them with all that he remembered, and all that he had forgotten.

I still remember one from when I was a child. It was about a bear trying to get into a jar of honey. He never gave up. I thought about that when I was trying to get clean. I had to just keep on trying to open that honey jar.” “I liked to read to my kids when they were young. My son much preferred my wife to do it, but when I got to do it, it felt really special. I liked the stories, too.” “Everyone has a good story to tell, Arthur. If you’d have told me last night that I’d have an adventurous old bloke kipping at my house for the night, I’d think I was going mad. But here you are. You’re all right, Arthur, for a posh pensioner,” he teased. “And so are you, for a bit of a scruffbag.

Revolutions that upend established scientific truth are exceedingly rare. But when they happen, they can have profound effects on science and technology.

There were human beings and there was Audrey Hepburn.

Fear is an invitation to remember who God is.

Yes, that’s what I meant to say. If this seems a bit circular to you, well, it is, but it has deep meaning.

In 2014, the Earth’s gravity is weakest in southern India (blue spot) and strongest in Iceland and Indonesia (red spots).

Regardless of what’s ahead for you, darling girl, I hope that you will use your love wisely. Give it away for its intended purpose, and don’t be afraid to risk loss.

Keep the fight in your veins, honey. Never let it fade.

This is publishing, Kip! Since when does logic have anything to do with it?

Don't mind her," Kip said to Nicki. "She's just crabby from the long ride." "Yeah, I've been riding with...I mean on...a horse's ass all day," Abbey quipped.

Ik was vroeger altijd zo dol op Pip en Kip. - Foaly

Kip, the world doesn’t explain itself. You go on.” “How?” Kip’s voice sounded small and hollow in his own ears. “You just do.

I mean I wish I could die a better way. Not here in this place, wilting my way into glory. I'd die of something....with pizzazz. ~Mrs Kip

Regardless of what's ahead for you, darling girl, I hope that you will use your love wisely. Give it away for its intended purpose, and don't be afraid to risk loss. ~Mrs. Kip

As Beaumarchais gathered blankets and grenades in France, William Howe’s redcoats came ashore and slaughtered Washington’s forces on Long Island, in Brooklyn, and then in Manhattan. A humiliated Washington could do nothing to stop his troops’ shoddy retreat from Kips Bay, swatting at them with his horsewhip and howling, “Are these the men with which I am to defend America?

I'd go through it again if that's what the Lord willed. But if I'm being honest--if I had a vote in the matter--there is one thing and one thing only I'd change. I would change the way I die."~ Mrs Kip

She wanted to find the place where lightning bolts were stored, to discover where the wind began, and to watch as love poured down in generous waterfalls into hearts that moved in its current. What a joy to be among the chorus when one more of those hearts turned to the Son. How loud the sound must be.

At our meeting, I suggested to Steven and Lynda two guidelines for the science of Interstellar: 1. Nothing in the film will violate firmly established laws of physics, or our firmly established knowledge of the universe. 2. Speculations (often wild) about ill-understood physical laws and the universe will spring from real science, from ideas that at least some “respectable” scientists regard as possible.

Svako ko je proživeo ljubav i ko zna koliko daleko ona može ići, nikada ne može biti zadovoljan s ljubavlju koja je osrednja. Sada ne mogu pristati na manje. Jednostavno ne mogu! Moja ljubav prema njemu - bila je ljubav mog života. Gle, iako sam ga izagnala iz svog života, on još uvek u mojoj glavi stoji kao kip prema kojem merim svakog drugog muškarca, i na žalost, svima drugima nešto fali. I naravno, ja sam ta koja gubi takvim usporedbama.

But ours is not a dystopia. Life is still tolerable and in some ways pleasant, with little amenities such as baseball continuing. However, we no longer think big. We no longer aspire to great things. We aspire to little more than just keeping life going.

I have my dark days, and I have my days of hope about all of it, but to be honest, those days of hope are a bit of a forced hope. — Kip Moore, from “Kip Moore: Moore Authenticity” by Tricia Despres, American Songwriter (vol. 36, no. 3, March / April 2021)

Dogs and wolves are the same, except for one difference: dogs live at home, food and water are provided and they sleep in their owner’s bed. Wolves, meanwhile, live on mountains, have to find their own food and somewhere to kip . . . I want a team full of hungry and ambitious wolves.’ (Boza Maljkovic)

A leaf is a silent proverb. Did you ever consider that? When it buds on the tree, people rejoice. Throughout its prime, they love it for the shade it provides. But only when it reaches the end of its time on the tree does its brilliance come through. Sometimes yellow, sometimes orange, sometimes deep red. Dazzling in its artistry, like a drop of sunset you can see at all hours of the day.” Clara smiled. “A leaf has the most extraordinary death. There is so much beauty to it.

One day while I was apologizing to Serennah for not having the money to pay for something that she needed, she pointed out that our lack of finances has kept us humble. We do not have any high-maintenance spoiled brats in this household. We have never missed a meal; some of those blessed meals have consisted of beans and rice (nutritionally okay but harder for Kip to swallow), but we were still thankful. I told our kids that if you have never had your debit card denied while trying to make a purchase, you have not lived! I was joking at the time, but as I thought about it some more, I agreed with Serennah. These humbling moments keep us from getting too proud.

You're going to be too busy being at my beck and call to worry about doing any driving.

It sounds like you aren't used to having something so powerful between your legs," Abbey said. "Maybe you should let me drive.

Draw the curtains. “Whatever for?” Prying eyes and itchy ears. “Are you naturally cryptic, or is it something you picked up at Guardian training academy?

A pained body with a broken spirit tends to recoil when the hand of grace first finds its wounds.

Tell me, is it possible to love someone who is not as smart as you are?” Caravaggio, in a belligerent morphine rush, wanted the mood of argument. “This is something that has concerned me most of my sexual life—which began late, I must announce to this select company. In the same way the sexual pleasure of conversation came to me only after I was married. I had never thought words erotic. Sometimes I really do like to talk more than fuck. Sentences. Buckets of this buckets of that and then buckets of this again. The trouble with words is that you can really talk yourself into a corner. Whereas you can’t fuck yourself into a corner.” “That’s a man talking,” muttered Hana. “Well, I haven’t,” Caravaggio continued, “maybe you have, Kip, when you came down to Bombay from the hills, when you came to England for military training. Has anyone, I wonder, fucked themselves into a corner. How old are you, Kip?” “Twenty-six.” “Older than I am.” “Older than Hana. Could you fall in love with her if she wasn’t smarter than you? I mean, she may not be smarter than you. But isn’t it important for you to think she is smarter than you in order to fall in love? Think now. She can be obsessed by the Englishman because he knows more. We’re in a huge field when we talk to that guy. We don’t even know if he’s English. He’s probably not. You see, I think it is easier to fall in love with him than with you. Why is that? Because we want to know things, how the pieces fit. Talkers seduce, words direct us into corners. We want more than anything to grow and change. Brave new world.

Seventig tot negentig procent van de kippen in de winkel heeft een andere potentieel dodelijke ziektekiem onder de leden, de campylobacter. De kippen worden vaak door een chloorbad gehaald om slijk, stank en bacteriën weg te spoelen. Grote kans dat het de consument opvalt dat hun kip niet helemaal smaakt zoals het hoort - hoe lekker kan een met medicijnen volgepropte, van ziektes vergeven en met stront overdekte vogel in vredesnaam smaken? - dus wordt het vlees geïnjecteerd met kunstmatige geur- en smaakstoffen en zoutoplossingen zodat het oogt, ruikt en smaakt zoals we het intussen gewend zijn. (Uit onderzoek van consumentenorganisaties is gebleken dat kip- en kalokoenproducten, vaak zelfs met het predicaat 'natuurlijk', voor tien tot dertig procent bestaan uit toegevoegde geur- en smaakstoffen en water.

One of the things that sets Interstellar apart from other sci-fi movies is its lineup of executive producers. There’s Jordan Goldberg (Batman, Inception), Jake Myers (The Revenant), and Thomas Tull (Jurassic World). And then there’s Kip Thorne, emeritus Feynman Professor of Theoretical Physics at the California Institute of Technology in Pasadena. Not many theoretical physicists moonlight as film producers.

We don’t know what triggered the big bang, nor what, if anything, existed before it. But somehow the universe emerged as a vast sea of ultrahot gas, expanding fast in all directions like the fireball ignited by a nuclear bomb blast or by the explosion of a gas pipeline. Except that the big bang was not destructive (so far as we know). Instead, it created everything in our universe, or rather the seeds for everything.

And so, nearly in sight of the capital of Ruthgar, they boarded the odd new skimmer that Ben-hadad had dubbed the Mighty Thruster. Kip had shaken his head. Tisis had muttered, "Boys." Ferkudi had guffawed. Winsen had grinned. Cruxer had blushed and said, "you can't call it that." "We're the Mighty," Ben-hadad said. "The propulsion units are thrusters, that's all". The damn liar. "i guess you'll be the first man to ride the Mighty Thruster?", tisis asked. His brown wrinkled. "That makes it sound..." "Make sure you take a good wide stance, legs apart, or he'll thrown you." "He? i didn't..." "Do you need more instruction? Because I'm getting quite adept at riding a mighty thruster myself," she said. Ben-hadad blanched. "You'll want to make sure you have a good grip, and loosen up your hips a--" "All right! All right!" Hours later, they sped into the mouth of the Great River -- on the good skimmer Blue Falcon

There are other models to explain Cygnus X-1 that do not include a black hole, but they are all rather far-fetched. A black hole seems to be the only really natural explanation of the observations. Despite this, I had a bet with Kip Thorne of the California Institute of Technology that in fact Cygnus X-1 does not contain a black hole! This was a form of insurance policy for me. I have done a lot of work on black holes, and it would all be wasted if it turned out that black holes do not exist. But in that case, I would have the consolation of winning my bet, which would bring me four years of the magazine Private Eye. In fact, although the situation with Cygnus X-1 has not changed much since we made the bet in 1975, there is now so much other observational evidence in favor of black holes that I have conceded the bet. I paid the specified penalty, which was a one-year subscription to Penthouse, to the outrage of Kip’s liberated wife.

As scientists would discover after Einstein’s death, Schwarzschild’s odd theory was right. Stars could collapse and create such a phenomenon, and in fact they often did. In the 1960s, physicists such as Stephen Hawking, Roger Penrose, John Wheeler, Freeman Dyson, and Kip Thorne showed that this was indeed a feature of Einstein’s general theory of relativity, one that was very real. Wheeler dubbed them “black holes,” and they have been a feature of cosmology, as well as Star Trek episodes, ever since.3 Black holes have now been discovered all over the universe, including one at the center of our galaxy that is a few million times more massive than our sun. “Black holes are not rare, and they are not an accidental embellishment of our universe,” says Dyson. “They are the only places in the universe where Einstein’s theory of relativity shows its full power and glory. Here, and nowhere else, space and time lose their individuality and merge together in a sharply curved four-dimensional structure precisely delineated by Einstein’s equations.”4 Einstein

They climbed up the crane’s service ladder, then clambered along the fat metal supports. The crane was way taller than it had looked from the floor, and Kip was a little scared–not like scared scared, he wasn’t a baby–but the climb wasn’t hard. It was kind of like the obstacle course at the playground, only way bigger. Besides, he was with his dad. If Dad said it was okay, it was okay. The other people already on the crane smiled at them. ‘Pull up a seat,’ one lady shouted. Dad laughed. ‘Don’t mind if we do.’ He swung himself into an empty spot. ‘Come on, Kip.

I can't believe this heat," Abbey said, taking her tunic and pulling it over her head. Underneath was a form-fitting top that showed a figure unaccustomed to idleness or excess. Kip stared at her the way he had at the shiney curves of the steel horse back in the garage. "Can you imagine what it must have been like hundreds of years ago, when weather changed just a few times a year?" she said, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. "Yeah, it must have looked great," Kip said. "What do you mean looked great?" Abbey said, turning her eye on Kip. "Must have been great, like you said," he corrected.

... she went toe-to-toe with the most vicious enemies this world sends our way. So many of us find ourselves at their mercy too. But Clara was one who chose to fight back with armor and a sword no enemy can steal away. She fought not only for herself but also largely for others. Especially those who could not fight for themselves. This kind of love comes only from a heart given in devotion to God's will. This kind of love, which crosses boundaries and boldly lays down self, is the love she gave freely and generously, because Jesus first gave it to her. She died in body only once, but she died a thousand tiny deaths to self before that.

But first: Kip Mdang, I would like you to have this, as a token of my esteem, a promise of my affection, an affirmation of my readiness to follow your star wherever you wander with it, an acknowledgement of my willingness to raise an island for you whenever you need one, and…” Fitzroy took a deep breath. “And a statement of something I have never quite dared say in its full simplicity before, which is that I love you.” Before Cliopher could say anything—before Cliopher could do anything—Fitzroy tugged off his signet ring and placed it on the palm of Cliopher’s hand. Cliopher looked at his fanoa. “That’s the Imperial Seal,” he said, but even without looking down he had closed his hand around the ring. It was warm in his hand from Fitzroy’s body-heat, his inner fire. “It is,” said Fitzroy. “And you know very well that there is not another person in all the Nine Worlds and the lands beyond whom I would trust with it.” “I don’t know what to say,” Cliopher said, knowing his face and his heart were both open as the proverbial shell on the beach. Now Fitzroy smiled, a curving, splendid smile, a Fitzroy Angursell smile. “‘Thank you’ will be quite sufficient, my dear Kip. Seeing as you’ve already done all the hard work of taking down the empire and creating a home for me.

He shook the nerves from his hand and touched the root again. Again it moved. The tiny fibers at the end came alive, reaching for him, twining around his fingertip. He looked around the hole, and he could now see tiny roots everywhere, pushing gently through the soil. The tree was growing right before his eyes. “You’re alive,” he whispered. Just then, he felt a sharp pain. The root had tightened, choking the tip of his finger. Kip jerked his hand back, trying to pull himself free—but the root would not let go. He pulled harder. “Ow!” he cried out as his hand finally came away. A gust of wind howled overhead. Kip looked up and saw leaves and loose dirt blowing into the hole, piling up around his feet. He tried to pull himself out of the hole, but a strong gust knocked him backward. Dirt and leaves poured down over his body, burying him. “Help!” Kip shouted, but he knew no one could hear him. Molly and the family were inside the house. Even Galileo was gone. More and more tiny roots came out of the soil, grasping at his legs, his arms, his neck. Kip screamed again, straining against the roots. His voice came back to him, muffled and small. He could barely move beneath the weight of dirt and leaves—a rustling, choking darkness. Kip twisted his body and felt something hard against his face—

Violence; violence, and power, in the context of yet somebody else walking up to the groaning boards of fantasy’s eternal wedding feast, still laden with the cold meats from Tolkien’s funeral, and cheekily joining everyone who’s trying to send the whole thing smashing to the ground just to hear the noise all that crockery will make. —But! Also: genderfuck, hearts broken cleanly and otherwise, the City of Portland, Spenser, those moments in pop songs when the bass and all of the drums except maybe a handclap suddenly drop out of the bridge leaving you hanging from a slender aching thread of melody waiting almost dreading the moment when the beat comes back, and the occasional bit of swordplay.

Aberforth’s getting a bit annoyed,” said Fred, raising his hand in answer to several cries of greeting. “He wants a kip, and his bar’s turned into a railway station.” Harry’s mouth fell open. Right behind Lee Jordan came Harry’s old girlfriend, Cho Chang. She smiled at him. “I got the message,” she said, holding up her own fake Galleon, and she walked over to sit beside Michael Corner. “So what’s the plan, Harry?” said George. “There isn’t one,” said Harry, still disoriented by the sudden appearance of all these people, unable to take everything n while his scar was still burning so fiercely. “Just going to make it up as we go along, are we? My favorite kind,” said Fred. “You’ve got to stop this!” Harry told Neville. “What did you call them all back for? This is insane--” “We’re fighting, aren’t we?” said Dean, taking out his fake Galleon. “The message said Harry was back, and we were going to fight! I’ll have to get a wand, though--” “You haven’t got a wand--?” began Seamus. Ron turned suddenly to Harry. “Why can’t they help?” “What?” “They can help.” He dropped his voice and said, so that none of them could hear but Hermione, who stood between them, “We don’t know where it is. We’ve got to find it fast. We don’t have to tell them it’s a Horcrux.” Harry looked from Ron to Hermione, who murmured, “I think Ron’s right. We don’t even know what we’re looking for, we need them.” And when Harry looked unconvinced, “You don’t have to do everything alone, Harry.

Kiara ached as her father left her alone with the two men she wasn’t so sure about. Her heart heavy, she locked the door, then frowned at the mocking expression on Syn’s face as he walked over to Nykyrian. “What the hell was that action?” Syn asked him. “I think it’s something called ‘paternal concern.’” Syn scowled at his bland explanation. “What…? You sure? I thought that crap was a myth.” Nykyrian shrugged. “No, really. I watched it once in a documentary. It was fascinating. Believe it or not, there are people out there who actually have feelings for their progeny.” “Get the fuck out. No way. You’re screwing with my head again, aren’t you?” “No. I swear. You just saw it with your own eyes. I did not make that shit up.” Syn shivered. “Yeah but it’s really messing with my concept of the natural order of the universe. Paternal love? What’s next? Limb regrowth? Genetic splicing reversals?” Kiara gave Syn an irritated grimace. “Don’t your parents ever worry about either of you?” Syn arched a brow. “What parents?” A ripple of apprehension went through Kiara that she might have been insensitive to them. “Are they dead?” “Careful,” Nykyrian said, returning to the kitchen. “You might not want an answer to that question.” She tried to understand his cryptic response. “What do you mean?” Syn laughed evilly. “Kip wasn’t born, he was spawned.” Now she was completely confused. “Who’s Kip?” Syn indicated Nykyrian with his thumb. “You were a tubie?” Nykyrian glanced up from his dinner preparations. “Syn has a brain disorder that causes him to lie most of the time. Ignore him.” Syn snorted. “I don’t lie. I merely tell the truth creatively.

Wanneer ik probeer na te gaan wat ik aan de kant van Méséglise te danken heb - de bescheiden ontdekkingen die daar hun toevallige decor of onmisbare inspiratiebron hadden - herinner ik me dat het op een van die wandeltochten was, dat najaar, bij de dichtbegroeide helling die Montjouvain beschut, dat ik voor het eerst werd getroffen door die onevenredigheid tussen onze indrukken en de gebruikelijke uitdrukkingswijze daarvan. Toen ik, na een uur monter tegen regen en wind te hebben opgetornd, aankwam bij de plas van Montjouvain, bij een met dakpannen afgedekt hutje waar de tuinman van M. Vinteuil zijn gereedschap opborg, was de zon weer doorgebroken, en zijn in de stortbui schoongespoelde verguldsel glansde als nieuw in de lucht, op de bomen, op de muur van de hut, op het nog natte pannendak, waar boven aan de nok een kip rondstapte. De blazende wind rukte horizontaal aan de grassen die in het muurbeschot groeiden en aan de donzen veren van de kip, die, het ene zowel als het andere, gerekt tot in hun volle lengte, meegaven op het waaien met de overgave van inerte, lichte dingen. Het pannendak bracht in de plas, die de zon opnieuw liet spiegelen, een roze marmering teweeg waar ik nooit eerder acht op had geslagen. En toen ik op het water en op het muurvlak een bleke glimlach de glimlach van de hemel zag beantwoorden, riep ik in mijn enthousiasme, zwiepend met mijn weer dichtgevouwen paraplu: 'Allemachtig, allemachtig.' Maar tegelijkertijd besefte ik dat het mijn plicht zou zijn geweest het niet bij die ondoorzichtige woorden te laten, maar te proberen iets van mijn verrukking te begrijpen. En het was ook die dag - dankzij een voorbijkomende boer die er al uitzag of hij vrij slechtgehumeurd was, wat erger werd toen hij bijna mijn paraplu in zijn gezicht kreeg, en die mijn 'mooi weer hè, goed om te lopen' stug beantwoordde - dat ik te weten kwam dat dezelfde emoties zich niet tezelfdertijd, volgens een al van tevoren vaststaand patroon, bij alle mensen voordoen. Altijd als ik, later, door het wat langdurige lezen in een spraakzame stemming was gebracht, had de schoolvriend met wie ik maar al te graag een gesprek wilde beginnen er juist plezierig op los gepraat en wenste nu ongestoord te kunnen lezen. Als ik net vol genegenheid aan mijn ouders had gedacht en bezield was van de beste voornemens, die hun het meest plezier zouden doen, hadden zij dezelfde tijd gebruikt om achter een - door mij vergeten - pekelzonde te komen waar ze mij streng om berispten terwijl ik naar hen toe rende om hun een zoen te geven.

Kad se bližila zora, sjedili smo na terasi Domea. Već smo odavno zaboravili jadnog Peckovera. Doživjeli smo nešto uzbuđenja u Bal Negre i Joeov se duh vratio nijegovoj vječnoj zaokupljenosti: pički. Upravo u ovo vrijeme, kad se njegovo slobodno veče bliži kraju, njegov nemir se penje do grozničavog vrhunca. On misli na ženske, kraj kojih je prošao ranije u toku večei, i o stalnim ženskama, koje je mogao imati, samo da ih pita, i samo da ih nije već sit. Neizbježivo se podsjetio na svoju pičku iz Georgije — ona ga u posljednje vrijeme opsjeda, moleći ga da je uzme na stan, barem dok ne uspije da nađe ikakav posao. »Nije mi krivo ako je svako malo nahrainim«, kaže on, »ali ne mogu je uzeti za stalno... ona bi mi pokvarila posao s drugira mojim pičkama«. Kod nje ga najviše nervira, da se ona nimalo ne deblja. »Kao da uzimaš kostur u posteIju«, kaže. Neki dan sam je primio — od samilosti — i šta misliš, šta je ta luđakinja učinila sebi? Obrijala ju je do gola... Ni dlačice na njojl Da li si kad imao ženu, koja je obrijala minđu? Odvratno, jelda? Ali i smiješno. Nekako šašavo. Više mi ne izgleda kao minđa, prije kao crknuta školjka ili nešto slično.« On mi opisuje kako je od radoznalosti ustao iz postelje i potražio ručnu svjetiljku. »Natjerao sam je da je rastvori i upravio sam ručnu svjetiljtku ravno na nju. Trebao si me vidjeti... Bilo je komično. Toliiko sam se na to usredotočio, da sam na žensku potpuno zaboravio. Nikad u životu nisam pizdu gledao tako ozbiljno. Čovjek bi pomislio, da je nikad prije nisam vidio. I što sam je više gledao, to mi je bila manje zanimljiva. To služi samo da ti pokaže, da u svemu tome na kraju krajeva nema ništa, naročito kad je obrijana. Dlaka je čini tajanstvenom. Zbog toga te nekakaiv kip nimalo ne uzbuđuje. Jednom sam vidio pravu pravcatu pizdu na kipu — kip je Rodinov. Moraš ga jedanput pogledati... Ona je širom razmaknula noge... čini mi se, da uopće i nema glave. Moglo bi se reći, sama pizda. Isuse, sablasno je izgledala. Stvar i jest u tome — sve izgledaju jednako. Kad ih gledaš odjevene, onda zamišljaš svakakve stvari: na stanoviti način im daješ individualnost, što one naravno nemaju. Ima samo pukotinu između nogu, i zbog nje se sav zapjeniš — a većinom je uopće ni ne gledaš. Znaš da je tamo, i samo misliš kako da uguraš svog jarana unutra, kao da penis misli mjesto tebe. Ali to je aluzija! Sav si se zapalio, a ni zbog čega... Zbog pukotine s malo dlake, ili bez dlake. To je toliko besmisleno, da sam fasciniran zurio u nju. Mora da sam je proučavao bar deset minuta. Kad je tako gledaš, nekako iz daljine, smiješne ti se misli vrte po glavi. Toliko tajanstvenosti oko seksa, a onda otkriješ da to nije ništa, samo praznina. Zar ne bi bilo zgodno kad bi unutra našao kakvu harmoniku... ili kalendar? Ali unutra nema ništa... ama baš ništa. Odvratno. Gotovo sam poludio... Čuj, što misliš što sam kasnije učinio? Na brzinu •sam joj opalio metaik, a onda joj okrenuo leđa. Da uzeo sam knjigu i čitao. U knjizi se može nešto naći, čak i u lošoj knizi... ali pizda je naprosto čist gubitak vrmena... « Str 144-146