Y K Quotes

Percy, we're going to Polyphemus' island! Polyphemus is an S-i-k...a C-y-k..." She stamped her foot in frustration. As smart as she was, Annabeth was dyslexic, too. We could've been there all night while she tried to spell Cyclops. "You know what I mean!

Sure, this will probably end up being another in a long line of emotionally crippling misadventures...but let's try to have some fun along the way.

Red Sox looked around Jane at the patient, “Your mind reading coming back?” “With her? Sometimes?” “Huh. You getting anything from anyone else?” “Nope.” Red Sox repositioned his hat. “Well, ah…let me know if you pick up shit from me, k? There are some things that I’d prefer to keep private, feel me?” “Roger that. Although I can’t help it sometimes.” “Which is why I’m going to take up thinking about baseball when you’re around.” “Thank fuck you’re not a Yankees fan.” “Don’t use the Y-word. We’re in mixed company.

No es bueno dejarse arrastrar por los sueños y olvidarse de vivir, recuérdalo.

Before I could say anything, Jamie began writing giant letters over the words with his index finger. F-U-C-K Y-O-U. My sentiments exactly.

Y’look like someone told you they’d stopped making lube.

it took time to realize that i have to stop giving myself away as if i didn’t belong to myself.

I really didn't foresee the Internet. But then, neither did the computer industry. Not that that tells us very much of course--the computer industry didn't even foresee that the century was going to end.

Just go out there and get your heart broken in, so it'll be ready when you really need it.

And what in the name of Merlin’s most baggy Y Fronts was that about?

I'm not afraid of the world. I'm afraid of a world without you.

there’s a universe swirling inside you. you have to learn to be your own earth, wind, fire and water. you are a natural phenomenon— not a natural disaster.

A is for Amy who fell down the stairs. B is for Basil assaulted by bears. C is for Clara who wasted away. D is for Desmond thrown out of a sleigh. E is for Ernest who choked on a peach. F is for Fanny sucked dry by a leech. G is for George smothered under a rug. H is for Hector done in by a thug. I is for Ida who drowned in a lake. J is for James who took lye by mistake. K is for Kate who was struck with an axe. L is for Leo who choked on some tacks. M is for Maud who was swept out to sea. N is for Neville who died of ennui. O is for Olive run through with an awl. P is for Prue trampled flat in a brawl. Q is for Quentin who sank on a mire. R is for Rhoda consumed by a fire. S is for Susan who perished of fits. T is for Titus who flew into bits. U is for Una who slipped down a drain. V is for Victor squashed under a train. W is for Winnie embedded in ice. X is for Xerxes devoured by mice. Y is for Yorick whose head was bashed in. Z is for Zillah who drank too much gin.

My mom once told me that a good relationship isn't where the other person makes you feel better, but where they make *you* better.

Never disturb a man when he’s eating at the Y.

El mundo no se divide en gente buena y mala; todos tenemos luz y oscuridad dentro de nosotros, lo que importa es la parte a la que obedecemos, eso es lo que realmente somos” Sirius Black.

And in the end, I think, we're all just trying to survive, aren't we?

K H A D I J A S A Y S . . . In Kashmir when we wake up and say ‘Good Morning’ what we really mean is ‘Good Mourning’.

unrequited love is like kneeling on uncooked rice and waiting for the boiling water of his kisses to soften the pain but he never comes.

Lo único que nos da miedo cuando nos asomamos a la muerte y a la oscuridad es lo desconocido.

Was there anything more intimate than being truly seen?

our foundation is rocky because we made a home in each other’s skin. the damage is beginning to show.

Listen, Harr,y can I have a go on it? Can I?" "I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermoine shrilly. Harry and Ron looked at her. "What d'you think Harry's going to do with it - sweep the floor?" said Ron.

There are so many things to know and learn. She reads...and finds comfort in the fact that she will never run out of books.

La verdad -Dumbledore suspiró- es una cosa terrible y hermosa, y por lo tanto debe ser tratada con gran cuidado.

Oh,you may not think I'm pretty, But don't judge on what you see, I'll eat myself if you can find A smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, Your tops hats sleek and tall, For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat And I can cap them all. There's nothing hidden in your head The Sorting Hat can't see, So try me on and I will tell you Where you ought to be. Y ou might belong in Gryffindor, Where dwell brave of heart, Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart; You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil; Or yet wise old Ravenclaw, If you've a ready mind, Where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind; Or perhaps in Slytherin You'll make your real friends, Those cunning folk use any means To achive their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And you won't get in a flap! You're safe in my hands(though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap!!

¡Yo! -exclamó Hermione-. ¡Libros! ¡Inteligencia! Hay cosas mucho más importantes, amistad, y valentía y... ¡Oh, Harry, ten cuidado!

don’t shrink your truth to make it fit nice and neatly in others as if it’s origami. unfold and free yourself.

love ridden i searched for you in corridors, open doors and in endless seas of similes and metaphors but we never were on the same page.

No. No, first comes boyhood. You get to play with soldiers and spacemen, cowboys and ninjas, pirates and robots. But before you know it, all that comes to an end. And then, Remo Williams, is when the adventure begins.

they say that patience is a virtue but they never tell you that the heat of waiting will burn you if you linger too long.

i am good at holding onto nothing like it’s all i have and running away from something like it’s the plague. i

Once you get past the scales and the blindfold, Justice is a woman with a sword.

La grandeza inspira envidia, la envidia rencor y el rencor mentiras

i knew his heart was yours but i wanted to become an alchemist to make gold of the pieces i received because all i ever felt was the dark side of his leaded heart.

I couldn't get to sleep. The book lay nearby. A thin object on the divan. So strange. Between two cardboard covers were noises, doors, howls, horses, people. All side by side, pressed tightly against one another. Boiled down to little black marks. Hair, eyes, voices, nails, legs, knocks on doors, walls, blood, beards, the sound of horseshoes, shouts. All docile, blindly obedient to the little black marks. The letters run in mad haste, now here, now there. The a's, f's, y's, k's all run. They gather together to create a horse or a hailstorm. They run again. Now they create a dagger, a night, a murder. Then streets, slamming doors, silence. Running and running. Never stopping.

Rock beats scissors, bitch.

Well, robots are, of course, the monkey's natural enemy.

Después de todo, para una mente bien organizada, la muerte no es más que la siguiente gran aventura.

La Indiferencia y la Frialdad, a veces, causan mucho más daño que la adversidad declarada

tears swell in the wells of my eyes. love is a constant side effect of mine.

Soy un mago y no un babuino blandiendo un palo

i chiseled away parts of myself trying to be everything to you until it could no longer be rendered as art.

darling, find passion and self-worth within instead of locking them inside of men who like swallowing keys so they can keep you all to themselves.  

her grass seemed greener until a drought came and cracked the earth beneath you.

Los que leemos ciencia-ficción, lo hacemos porque amamos la experiencia que supone la reacción en cadena de las ideas que tiene lugar en nuestras mentes por lo que hemos leído, algo novedoso; así, el propósito final de la mejor ciencia-ficción es la colaboración entre el autor y el lector, una colaboración en la que ambos son creadores — y disfrutan de ello: el disfrute es el ingrediente esencial y definitivo de la ciencia-ficción, el disfrute del descubrimiento de las cosas nuevas.

Tony:...but you need something to do about Noah. Paul: I know, I know. The only problem being that (a) he thinks I'm getting back with my ex-boyfriend, (b) he thinks I'll only hurt him, because (c) I've already hurt him and (d) someone else has already hurt him, which means that I'm hurting him even more. So (e) he doesn't trust me, and in all fairness, (g) every time I see him, I (h) want everything to be right again and I (i) want to kiss him madly. This means that (j) my feelings aren't going away anytime soon, but (k) his feelings don't look likely to budge, either. So either (l) I'm out of luck, (m) I'm out of hope, or (n) there's a way to make it up to him that I'm not thinking of. I could (o) beg, (p) plead, (q) grovel, or (r) give up. But, in order to do that, I would have to sacrifice my (s) pride, (t) reputation, and (u) self-respect, even though (v) I have very little of them left and (w) it probably wouldn't work anyway. As a result, I am (x) lost, (y) clue-free, and (z) wondering if you have any idea whatsoever what I should do.

Lo que sucedió en las mazmorras entre tu y el profesor Quirrell es completamente secreto, así que, naturalmente, todo el colegio lo sabe.

94 was a good year to be twelve. Star Wars still had two more years as Box Office King, cartoons were still hand-drawn, and the Disney "D" still looked like a backwards "G." Words like "Columbine," "Al Qaeda" and "Y2K" were not synonymous with "terror," and 9-1-1 was an emergency number instead of a date. At twelve years old, summer still mattered. Monarch caterpillars still crawled beneath every milkweed leaf. Dandelions (or "wishes" as Mara called them) were flowers instead of pests. And divorce was still considered a tragedy. Before Mara, carnivals didn't make me sick.

it’s time to give the love you denied yourself but frantically searched for in others. it’s time to realize that love was never trapped underneath their lips and fingertips. you held it hostage the entire time.

I didn't undrstnd Y I alwys lov uh.. knwing dat it is vry risky May b... I wanna pay it hard.. evry tym I got a f**k bt nw i think i learned hw i play wid it..!!

No te den lástima los muertos, Harry, sino más bien los vivos , y sobre todo los que viven sin amor.

When the Mayan Calendar runs out there will be another day. Just like there was with Y2K.

Separarse de la tierra y contemplarla desde arriba como los dioses es una blasfemia. No podemos ser dioses... pero podemos llegar a ser menos que humanos con aterradora facilidad.

i’ve learned to kiss you with my eyes. there are times you do not see me as i kiss you with a quiet desperation that you would never understand.  

¡Bienvenidos!-dijo-.¡Bienvenidos a un año nuevo en Hogwarts! Antes de comenzar nuestro banquete, quiero deciros unas pocas palabras. Y aquí están, ¡Papanatas! ¡Llorones! ¡Baratijas! ¡Pellizco!...¡Muchas gracias!

Hay muchos tipos de valentía. Hay que tener un gran coraje para oponerse a nuestros enemigos, pero hace falta el mismo valor para hacerlo con los amigos.- Harry Potter y La Piedra Filosofal

the galaxy is yours star your own sky. drink the shooting stars. lasso the moon. take a bite. feel the juice of self-love running down your chin and laugh madly. you’re still alive. you’re still alive. you’re still alive.

Childbirth has always been a dangerous undertaking, but at least I've managed to eliminate the most painful part of the process. What's that? Sex? Love.

Tal es el consuelo de los amigos: aunque se diga que han muerto, su amistad y su compañía no desaparecen, porque éstas son inmortales.

Esperemos que sus cabezas esten un poquito más llenas que cuando llegaron... Ahora tienen todo el verano para dejarlas bonitas y vacías antes de que comience el próximo año...

your eclipsed heart will wail for my stars until you realize you need my cosmic grace.                   chaos

If there's one thing my Grams has taught me, it’s that from shit, flowers grow. So, y'all can sit back and watch me fucking blossom.

Your writing blows, by the by. You split more infinitives than Gene Roddenberry.

Las formas primitivas deben de llevar una vida residual, invisible, en cada objeto, meditó Joe. El pasado está latente, sumergido, pero sigue ahí y puede aflorar a la superficie tan pronto desaparezcan, por cualquier desafortunado motivo y contra lo que nos enseña la experiencia diaria, las características del objeto último, más tardío. El hombre no contiene al muchacho, sino a los hombres que lo precedieron. La historia empezó hace mucho.

Las lágrimas son arte. Indican tanto tristeza como felicidad, y caen de una manera sublime. Salen de los ojos, es decir, de adentro, y se deslizan por la cara hasta derramarse en cualquier parte. Un pañuelo, los dedos, la piel de otra persona. Las lágrimas aprisionan y liberan, pero por sobre todas las cosas, son lo más auténtico de nosotros mismos.

Sin hacerle caso, acaricié cariñosamente el cabello de su yo inconsciente. —¡Te has dejado K.O. A ti mismo! ¿Aún recuerdas lo cruel que fuiste conmigo por eso? Gideon sonrió débilmente. —Sí, lo recuerdo —dijo—. Y lo siento de verdad. Pero ¿quién puede contar con que pase algo así? ¡Ahora ven de una vez! Antes de que ese tonto se despierte. Hace rato que ha entregado la carta. —Y, a continuación, soltó unas cuantas palabras francesas tras las que supuse que se ocultaban otras tantas maldiciones jugosas, porque recurrió varias veces, igual que su hermano antes, a la palabra merde.

La luz es la mano izquierda de la oscuridad, y la oscuridad es la mano derecha de la luz; las dos son una, vida y muerte, juntas como amantes

Y entonces recibió a la Muerte como si fuera una vieja amiga, y se marchó con ella de buen grado. Y así, como iguales, ambos se alejaron de la vida.

Fui un gran lector de novelas hasta que empecé a reseñarlas y, como es natural, tuve que dejar de leerlas.

para una mente bien organizada, la muerte no es más que la siguiente gran aventura.

she’s a starry night sky.

your skin is dark as the velvet night. your starred eyes are tenants in constellations. even the moon swells whenever you’re near. all

Siempre los inocentes son las primeras víctimas —dijo—. Ha sido así durante los siglos pasados y lo es ahora.

This computer-generated pangram contains six a's, one b, three c's, three d's, thirty-seven e's, six f's, three g's, nine h's, twelve i's, one j, one k, two l's, three m's, twenty-two n's, thirteen o's, three p's, one q, fourteen r's, twenty-nine s's, twenty-four t's, five u's, six v's, seven w's, four x's, five y's, and one z.

La libertad es una carga pesada, extraña y abrumadora para el espíritu que ha de llevarla. No es cómoda. No es un regalo que se recibe, sino una elección que se hace, y la elección puede ser difícil.

To be certain you're consuming the real deal, look carefully at the label. W-h-i-s-k-e-y indicates the heavenly liquid from the Emerald Isle. Without the "e," it's from Scotland or some other godforsaken place.

Ciba: "I thought you were supposed to be some big brave war hero. What about that goddamn gold star you polish every night?" Natalya: "You know what this shiny piece of tin is, you fucking space cadet? It's the way stupid boys trick other stupid boys into dying for bullshit causes ... and I'm done acting like one of them.

Nos guste o no, vivimos y morimos por un sinfín de decisiones que afectan a cada paso en nuestra vidas. A veces en formas que nunca nos atreveríamos a pensar o esperar. A veces en formas que no podemos entender durante mucho tiempo.

Whether divine or human, it is precisely the imagination that fashions and recognizes the universe as meaningful, abiding, and valuable, that is to say, as real.

Time is tick, tick, ticking away. How many souls will I capture today? Will they be a challenge or will they be given? Only time will tell as the clock keeps tick, tick, ticking. Your god has arrived with enough hatred for y’all, with enough evil for the big and small, so come one, come all. I will shred your souls and place them in my satchel, call you a settler and make you my peddler. Come one, come all, come stand behind your god. I will lead you into the darkness of Earth's end. Come one, come all, my wilted flowers, come claim your title, speak out and cheer it. Come one, come all, let’s have a ball, my wilted flowers . . . Sweet, Unconquerable Spirits.

De esta materia prima están hechos los grandes cuentos, ¿no? Puro romanticismo. En los cuentos, las parejas así viven felices para siempre. Pero los cuentos no dicen lo que sucede cuando se hace eso y se ofende a la familia más poderosa del mundo.

Okay.' I can feel the letters vomit off my tongue. O. K. A. Y. I watch the vet insert the syringe into the catheter and inject the second drug. And then the adventures come flooding back: The puppy farm. The gentle untying of the shoelace. THIS! IS! MY! HOME! NOW! Our first night together. Running on the beach. Sadie and Sophie and Sophie Dee. Shared ice-cream cones. Thanksgivings. Tofurky. Car rides. Laughter. Eye rain. Chicken and rice. Paralysis. Surgery. Christmases. Walks. Dog parks. Squirrel chasing. Naps. Snuggling. 'Fishful Thinking.' The adventure at sea. Gentle kisses. Manic kisses. More eye rain. So much eye rain. Red ball. The veterinarian holds a stethoscope up to Lily's chest, listening for her heartbeat. All dogs go to heaven. 'Your mother's name is Witchie-Poo.' I stroke Lily behind her ears the way that used to calm her. 'Look for her.' OH FUCK IT HURTS. I barely whisper. 'She will take care of you.

Though queens are a particular obsession of mine. I’m not speaking of European sovereigns, mind you, but that most glorious force of the chessboard. Did you know her square was originally occupied by a male “vizier,” able to advance only one meager diagonal step per move? But during the reign of the great female monarchs, this piece metamorphosed into a “queen,” and her power grew commensurate with her title. Only then did the game become something more— A mental odyssey that helped reshape the world.

Bueno, hay una especie de cruz torcida... —dijo consultando Disipar las nieblas del futuro—. Eso significa que vas a pasar penalidades y sufrimientos... Lo siento... Pero hay algo que podría ser el sol. Espera, eso significa mucha felicidad... Así que vas a sufrir, pero vas a ser muy feliz...

Resulta turbador que alguien se considere mal tipo y le dé igual. Atenta contra todo lo sagrado. Se nos enseña, por encima de todo, a ser amables y cultivar la amistad. Alguien que prescinde de todo eso es un individualista y un peligro en potencia

Outside I hopped into our vehicle, the taint of vampiric magic clinging to me like greasy smoke. “I feel soiled.” “Like walking into a room after a day of work, falling into bed, and realizing the sheets are covered in cold K-Y jelly,” Raphael said. I just stared at him. “With a funky smell,” he added. My Order conditioning failed me. “Ew.” Raphael grinned. “I‟m not even going to ask if that‟s happened to you.” I started the vehicle. “Has that happened to you?” “Yes.” Ew. “Where?” “In the bouda house. I was really tired and you‟ve seen that place: everything smells like sex . . .” “I don‟t want to know.” I peeled out of the parking lot. "So where are we going?” “To Spider Lynn‟s house. We‟re going to dig through her trash, and if that doesn‟t work, we‟ll do some breaking and entering.” Raphael frowned. “Do you know where she lives?” “Yes. I memorized the addresses of all the Masters of the Dead in the city. I have a lot of time on my hands.” He squinted at me, looking remarkably like a gentleman pirate from my favorite romance novels. “What else do you store in your head?” “This and that. I remember the first thing you ever said to me. You know, when you carried me from the cart into the tub so your mother could fix me.” “I imagine it was something very romantic,” he said. “Something along the lines of „I‟ve got you‟ or „I won‟t let you die.‟ “I was bleeding in the bathtub, trying to realign my bones, and my hyena glands voided from the pain. You said, „Don‟t worry, we have an excellent filtration system.‟” The look on his face was priceless. “That can‟t be the first thing.” “It was.” We drove in silence. “About the K-Y,” Raphael said. “I don‟t want to know!‟ “Once I washed it out of my hair—” “Raphael, why are you doing this?” “I want to make you go "Ew‟ again.” “Why in the world would you want to do that?” “It‟s an irrepressible male impulse. It just has to be done. As I was saying, once I washed it out—” “Raphael!” “No, wait, you‟ll like the next part.

Cuando alguien muere, la gente parece amarlo más que nunca. Todo lo malo que hizo, lo errores que cometió, las injusticias que perpetró, todo eso se olvida. Después de que morimos, todos somos buenas personas, y los vivos fingen estar compungidos. Apenas unos pocos sienten de verdad tu falta. El resto solo aparece como si de pronto necesitáramos su presencia mientras que, antes, ellos se habían evaporado.

A Plan for the Improvement of English Spelling For example, in Year 1 that useless letter "c" would be dropped to be replased either by "k" or "s", and likewise "x" would no longer be part of the alphabet. The only kase in which "c" would be retained would be the "ch" formation, which will be dealt with later. Year 2 might reform "w" spelling, so that "which" and "one" would take the same konsonant, wile Year 3 might well abolish "y" replasing it with "i" and Iear 4 might fiks the "g/j" anomali wonse and for all. Jenerally, then, the improvement would kontinue iear bai iear with Iear 5 doing awai with useless double konsonants, and Iears 6-12 or so modifaiing vowlz and the rimeining voist and unvoist konsonants. Bai Iear 15 or sou, it wud fainali bi posibl tu meik ius ov thi ridandant letez "c", "y" and "x" -- bai now jast a memori in the maindz ov ould doderez -- tu riplais "ch", "sh", and "th" rispektivli. Fainali, xen, aafte sam 20 iers ov orxogrefkl riform, wi wud hev a lojikl, kohirnt speling in ius xrewawt xe Ingliy-spiking werld.

The woman types everything into her computer, raising her eyebrows slightly at Devon's middle name. "Devon Sky Davenport," she repeats. "Sky? S-k-y?" "Yes," Devon says, addressing the back of the computer monitor rather than the woman's face directly. "S-k-y. As in"---she swallows---"as in, 'the sky's the limit.'" But Devon doesn't volunteer any further explanation, doesn't explain to the women the story behind the name. That, in fact, "the sky's the limit" is how Devon's mom has always defined Devon and her supposed potential in life. Her mom would say it when Devon brought home a flawless report card or when Devon received a stellar postseason evaluation from her coach or when a complete stranger commented on Devon's exceptional manners or after the Last Loser packed his stuff and walked out. "You'll be Somebody for both of us," her mom would say. Not anymore, Mom. Everything's changed. Now, for me, "the sky" isn't anything but flat and gray and too far away to ever reach. She takes a deep breath. If you were here with me, you'd see it for yourself.

When I turned thirty, I briefly flirted with the notion of undergoing sexual reassignment surgery. Once again, I was ready for a big change in my life. Plus, I was having a really difficult time meeting gay guys who didn’t seem gay yet were still caustic. So I figured, as a woman I would have a whole new pool of men from which to fish. I decided that I would probably opt for the self-lubricating vagioplasty option. …the plus side of this vagina was that it was, like the name implies, self-lubricating. So I wouldn’t need to give myself away and reach for the K-Y. On the downside, it was always self-lubricating, so you had to wear a maxipad at all times, even at funerals.

Sublime Books The Known World, by Edward P. Jones The Buried Giant, by Kazuo Ishiguro A Thousand Trails Home, by Seth Kantner House Made of Dawn, by N. Scott Momaday Faithful and Virtuous Night, by Louise Glück The Left Hand of Darkness, by Ursula K. Le Guin My Sentence Was a Thousand Years of Joy, by Robert Bly The World Without Us, by Alan Weisman Unfortunately, It Was Paradise, by Mahmoud Darwish Collected Fictions, by Jorge Luis Borges, trans. Andrew Hurley The Xenogenesis Trilogy, by Octavia E. Butler Map: Collected and Last Poems, by Wisława Szymborska In the Lateness of the World, by Carolyn Forché Angels, by Denis Johnson Postcolonial Love Poem, by Natalie Diaz Hope Against Hope, by Nadezhda Mandelstam Exhalation, by Ted Chaing Strange Empire, by Joseph Kinsey Howard Tookie’s Pandemic Reading Deep Survival, by Laurence Gonzales The Lost City of the Monkey God, by Douglas Preston The House of Broken Angels, by Luis Alberto Urrea The Heartsong of Charging Elk, by James Welch Selected Stories of Anton Chekhov, trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating, by Elisabeth Tova Bailey Let’s Take the Long Way Home, by Gail Caldwell The Aubrey/Maturin Novels, by Patrick O’Brian The Ibis Trilogy, by Amitav Ghosh The Golden Wolf Saga, by Linnea Hartsuyker Children of Time, by Adrian Tchaikovsky Coyote Warrior, by Paul VanDevelder Incarceration Felon, by Reginald Dwayne Betts Against the Loveless World, by Susan Abulhawa Waiting for an Echo, by Christine Montross, M.D. The Mars Room, by Rachel Kushner The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander This Is Where, by Louise K. Waakaa’igan I Will Never See the World Again, by Ahmet Altan Sorrow Mountain, by Ani Pachen and Adelaide Donnelley American Prison, by Shane Bauer Solitary, by Albert Woodfox Are Prisons Obsolete?, by Angela Y. Davis 1000 Years of Joys and Sorrows, by Ai Weiwei Books contain everything worth knowing except what ultimately matters. —Tookie * * * If you are interested in the books on these lists, please seek them out at your local independent bookstore. Miigwech! Acknowledgments

Guapo está. Pero es tan tonto. Pone K en vez de q, en vez de c, en vez de todo, ya ni hablemos de la ausencia total de acentos y signos de interrogación. “Kieres k t compre 1 helado”. ¡Me pongo verde cuando manda esas cosas! Una cosa es estar in y otra ser subnormal. Un día le pregunté por qué hacía esa babosada. —Por ahorrar tiempo. —Pero tu teléfono es nuevo, ¿no? —¿Y eso qué? —Que el celular te completa las frases solito. Te apuesto lo que quieras a que tuviste que meterle la nueva palabra. —¿Y? —Que perdiste más tiempo. —Pero se ve padre. —Se ve horrible. Me duelen los ojos cuando veo tus kas bailoteando por todos lados. —¿Por qué eres tan anticuada? Y no sólo eso, ¡pone “jajaja” en los correos después de alguna dizque broma hilarante! ¿Quién pone “jaja- ja”? Sólo un imbécil que cree ser graciosísimo. Caray, empecé con que no me gustaba y ahora hasta imbécil resultó.

Do you know my best quality?” she asks. ”Of your many, I could not say, my darling.” ”I see the best in people. I fall in love with people when I see a window into their beings, their shining moments. I’ve fallen in love with so many people but the trouble is I fall out of love so quickly too. I see the worst in them just as easily. ”Do you know I fell in love with you right away? That day at the Trotters’ I had noted you because you were new, of course, and then you sat down at the piano, and you played a few notes, but you played them so well, with no self consciousness, and no idea that anyone might be listening. It was in that room off the garden and you were the only one there. I was passing through on the way to the ladies’ room and saw you there. I fell in love with you right then, and so I slipped my drink all over myself so I could meet you.”

For now, the Simple Daily Practice means doing ONE thing every day. Try any one of these things each day: A) Sleep eight hours. B) Eat two meals instead of three. C) No TV. D) No junk food. E) No complaining for one whole day. F) No gossip. G) Return an e-mail from five years ago. H) Express thanks to a friend. I) Watch a funny movie or a stand-up comic. J) Write down a list of ideas. The ideas can be about anything. K) Read a spiritual text. Any one that is inspirational to you. The Bible, The Tao te Ching, anything you want. L) Say to yourself when you wake up, “I’m going to save a life today.” Keep an eye out for that life you can save. M) Take up a hobby. Don’t say you don’t have time. Learn the piano. Take chess lessons. Do stand-up comedy. Write a novel. Do something that takes you out of your current rhythm. N) Write down your entire schedule. The schedule you do every day. Cross out one item and don’t do that anymore. O) Surprise someone. P) Think of ten people you are grateful for. Q) Forgive someone. You don’t have to tell them. Just write it down on a piece of paper and burn the paper. It turns out this has the same effect in terms of releasing oxytocin in the brain as actually forgiving them in person. R) Take the stairs instead of the elevator. S) I’m going to steal this next one from the 1970s pop psychology book Don’t Say Yes When You Want to Say No: when you find yourself thinking of that special someone who is causing you grief, think very quietly, “No.” If you think of him and (or?) her again, think loudly, “No!” Again? Whisper, “No!” Again, say it. Louder. Yell it. Louder. And so on. T) Tell someone every day that you love them. U) Don’t have sex with someone you don’t love. V) Shower. Scrub. Clean the toxins off your body. W) Read a chapter in a biography about someone who is an inspiration to you. X) Make plans to spend time with a friend. Y) If you think, “Everything would be better off if I were dead,” then think, “That’s really cool. Now I can do anything I want and I can postpone this thought for a while, maybe even a few months.” Because what does it matter now? The planet might not even be around in a few months. Who knows what could happen with all these solar flares. You know the ones I’m talking about. Z) Deep breathing. When the vagus nerve is inflamed, your breathing becomes shallower. Your breath becomes quick. It’s fight-or-flight time! You are panicking. Stop it! Breathe deep. Let me tell you something: most people think “yoga” is all those exercises where people are standing upside down and doing weird things. In the Yoga Sutras, written in 300 B.C., there are 196 lines divided into four chapters. In all those lines, ONLY THREE OF THEM refer to physical exercise. It basically reads, “Be able to sit up straight.” That’s it. That’s the only reference in the Yoga Sutras to physical exercise. Claudia always tells me that yogis measure their lives in breaths, not years. Deep breathing is what keeps those breaths going.

I’m not so comfortable with politicians. Meeting them always just feels weird and a bit creepy, no matter who it is. For example, I met Tony Blair during The Osbournes period at this thing called the Pride of Britain Awards. He was all right, I suppose; very charming. But I couldn’t get over the fact that our young soldiers were dying out in the Middle East and he could still find the time to hang around with pop stars. Then he came over to me and said, ‘I was in a rock’n’roll band once, y’know?’ I said, ‘So I believe, Prime Minister.’ ‘But I could never work out the chords to “Iron Man”.’ I wanted to say, ‘F**k me, Tony, that’s a staggering piece of information, that is. I mean, you’re at war with Afghanistan, people are getting blown up all over the place, so who honestly gives a f**k that you could never work out the chords to “Iron Man”?’ But they’re all the same, so there’s no point getting wound up about it.

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Oh, podrás pensar que no soy bonito, pero no juzgues por lo que ves. Me comeré a mí mismo si puedes encontrar un sombrero más inteligente que yo. Puedes tener bombines negros, sombreros altos y elegantes. Pero yo soy el Sombrero Seleccionador de Hogwarts y puedo superar a todos. No hay nada escondido en tu cabeza que el Sombrero Seleccionador no pueda ver. Así que pruébame y te diré dónde debes estar. Puedes pertenecer a Gryffindor, donde habitan los valientes. Su osadía, temple y caballerosidad ponen aparte a los de Gryffindor. Puedes pertenecer a Hufflepuff, donde son justos y leales. Esos perseverantes Hufflepuff de verdad no temen el trabajo pesado. O tal vez a la antigua sabiduría de Ravenclaw, si tienes una mente dispuesta, porque los de inteligencia y erudición siempre encontrarán allí a sus semejantes. O tal vez en Slytherin harás tus verdaderos amigos. Esa gente astuta utiliza cualquier medio para lograr sus fines. ¡Así que pruébame! ¡No tengas miedo! ¡Y no recibirás una bofetada! Estás en buenas manos (aunque yo no las tenga). Porque soy el Sombrero Pensante.

From his beach bag the man took an old penknife with a red handle and began to etch the signs of the letters onto nice flat pebbles. At the same time, he spoke to Mondo about everything there was in the letters, about everything you could see in them when you looked and when you listened. He spoke about A, which is like a big fly with its wings pulled back; about B, which is funny, with its two tummies; or C and D, which are like the moon, a crescent moon or a half-full moon; and then there was O, which was the full moon in the black sky. H is high, a ladder to climb up trees or to reach the roofs of houses; E and F look like a rake and a shovel; and G is like a fat man sitting in an armchair. I dances on tiptoes, with a little head popping up each time it bounces, whereas J likes to swing. K is broken like an old man, R takes big strides like a soldier, and Y stands tall, its arms up in the air, and it shouts: help! L is a tree on the river's edge, M is a mountain, N is for names, and people waving their hands, P is asleep on one paw, and Q is sitting on its tail; S is always a snake, Z is always a bolt of lightning, T is beautiful, like the mast on a ship, U is like a vase, V and W are birds, birds in flight; and X is a cross to help you remember.

He imagined a town called A. Around the communal fire they’re shaping arrowheads and carving tributes o the god of the hunt. One day some guys with spears come over the ridge, perform all kinds of meanness, take over, and the new guys rename the town B. Whereupon they hang around the communal fire sharpening arrowheads and carving tributes to the god of the hunt. Some climatic tragedy occurs — not carving the correct tributary figurines probably — and the people of B move farther south, where word is there’s good fishing, at least according to those who wander to B just before being cooked for dinner. Another tribe of unlucky souls stops for the night in the emptied village, looks around at the natural defenses provided by the landscape, and decides to stay awhile. It’s a while lot better than their last digs — what with the lack of roving tigers and such — plus it comes with all the original fixtures. they call the place C, after their elder, who has learned that pretending to talk to spirits is a fun gag that gets you stuff. Time passes. More invasions, more recaptures, D, E, F, and G. H stands as it is for a while. That ridge provides some protection from the spring floods, and if you keep a sentry up there you can see the enemy coming for miles. Who wouldn’t want to park themselves in that real estate? The citizens of H leave behind cool totems eventually toppled by the people of I, whose lack of aesthetic sense if made up for by military acumen. J, K, L, adventures in thatched roofing, some guys with funny religions from the eastern plains, long-haired freaks from colder climes, the town is burned to the ground and rebuilt by still more fugitives. This is the march of history. And conquest and false hope. M falls to plague, N to natural disaster — same climatic tragedy as before, apparently it’s cyclical. Mineral wealth makes it happen for the O people, and the P people are renowned for their basket weaving. No one ever — ever — mentions Q. The dictator names the city after himself; his name starts with the letter R. When the socialists come to power they spend a lot of time painting over his face, which is everywhere. They don’t last. Nobody lasts because there’s always somebody else. They all thought they owned it because they named it and that was their undoing. They should have kept the place nameless. They should have been glad for their good fortune, and left it at that. X, Y, Z.