Specs Boy Quotes

I was the only boy in our school what had asthma," said the fat boy with a touch of pride. "And I've been wearing specs since I was three.

Grownups know things, said Piggy. They ain't afraid of the dark. They'd meet and have tea and discuss. Then things 'ud be alright--- They wouldn't set fire to the island. Or lose--- They'd build a ship--- The three boys stood in the darkness, striving unsuccessfully to convey the majesty of adult life. They wouldn't quarrel--- Or break my specs--- Or talk about a beast--- If only they could get a message to us, cried Ralph desperately. If only they could send us something grownup. . . a sign or something.

Iris kissing the lips of a dying boy. Imagine! So very kind, so killingly funny! Cross-eyed Iris in her specs, whatever did the poor boy think?

Perhaps we ought to feel with more imagination. As today the sky 70 degrees above zero with lines falling The way September moves a lace curtain to be near a pear, The oddest device can't be usual. And that is where The pejorative sense of fear moves axles. In the stars There is no longer any peace, emptied like a cup of coffee Between the blinding rain that interviews. You were my quintuplets when I decided to leave you Opening a picture book the pictures were all of grass Slowly the book was on fire, you the reader Sitting with specs full of smoke exclaimed How it was a rhyme for "brick" or "redder." The next chapter told all about a brook. You were beginning to see the relation when a tidal wave Arrived with sinking ships that spelled out "Aladdin." I thought about the Arab boy in his cave But the thoughts came faster than advice. If you knew that snow was a still toboggan in space The print could rhyme with "fallen star.

I LOST MY OWN BOY, Treelore, right before I started waiting on Miss Leefolt. He was twenty-four years old. The best part of a person’s life. It just wasn’t enough time living in this world. He had him a little apartment over on Foley Street. Seeing a real nice girl name Frances and I spec they was gone get married, but he was slow bout things like that. Not cause he looking for something better, just cause he the thinking kind. Wore big glasses and reading all the time. He even start writing his own book, bout being a colored man living and working in Mississippi.

What did he have, exactly? In his mind’s eye he saw a boy with a tartan bookbag running from the tough guys; he saw a boy who wore glasses, a thin boy with a pale face that had somehow seemed to scream Hit me! Go on and hit me! in some mysterious way to every passing bully. Here’s my lips! Mash them back against my teeth! Here’s my nose! Bloody it for sure and break it if you can! Box an ear so it swells up like a cauliflower! Split an eyebrow! Here’s my chin, go for the knockout button! Here are my eyes, so blue and so magnified behind these hateful, hateful glasses, these horn-rimmed specs one bow of which is held on with adhesive tape. Break the specs! Drive a shard of glass into one of these eyes and close it forever! What the hell!

prison. Griefer Planet appeared grayish from far away, but up close you could see the little red specs sprinkled across the ground. "Come on," said the guard as he escorted me into the prison. First stop, the boys locker room, time for a change of clothes. Prisoners had to wear ugly orange jumpsuits. This makes escape more difficult. You can't lurk in the shadows when you look like a giant popsicle. The guard watched me change clothes. Yup, privacy doesn't exist in prison. "Done," I said for no real reason. He had eyes, he could see that my clothes were now folded neatly, and sitting on the wooden bench. He told me to hold my arms out. Couldn't forget the handcuffs.

You’re a good watcher, anyway, I’ll tell you that for nothing, old boy. Us singles always are, no one to rely on, what? No one else spotted me. Gave me a real turn up there, parked on the horizon. Thought you were a juju man. Best watcher in the unit, Bill Roach is, I’ll bet. Long as he’s got his specs on. What?

Oh! So you’re from, erm … Danishland. Pastries, yeah? I love ’em! That’ll be why you talk funny, eh? Anyway let’s have a look at your specs then?’ ‘My spectacles?

I suspect that God is what you do, not what or who you believe in. But people do shit things all the time, I said. There’s something wrong with us. Perhaps. And maybe not. But when you do right, Jaxie, when you make good — well, then you are an instrument of God. Then you are joined to the divine, to the life-force, to life itself. That’s what I believe. That’s what I hope for. And it’s what I have missed. That’s all jumblyfuck to me, I said as decent as I could. Well, think of it this way, he said, pushing his specs back up his nose. When somebody does me a kindness, it enlarges me, adds to my life, you see? And not only mine — it adds to all life. Which is why I wanted to thank you. For coming here. Me? Fintan gave a sad little laugh. And I caught him looking at me goony as an emu. What? I said. Don’t you understand me, boy? Can’t you see it? Jaxie Clackton, you are an instrument of God.