Just before dawn one winter's morning, a hijacked jetliner explodes above the English Channel. Through the falling debris, two self-proclaimed New York City shopaholics – Ally and Erica – fall from the sky and miraculously wash up on the snow-covered sands of an English beach clutching their credit cards. Through a series of surreal metamorphoses, dreams and revelations, they find enlightenment in a small shop selling designer handbags.
The neighborhood is no place for the innocent, the young, the defenseless or the pure. This is a territory of broken families, bitter cops, whacked out ex-cons, and a mother who watches herself on the nightly news as her missing child floats further and further into the unkown. When Eragon finds a polished blue stone in the forest, he thinks it is the lucky discovery of a poor farm boy; perhaps it will buy his family meat for the winter. Boston private investigators, Patrick Kenzie and Angela Gennaro, don't want this case. But when the stone brings a dragon hatchling, Eragon realizes he has stumbled upon a legacy nearly as old as the Empire itself. But after pleas from the child's aunt, they embark upon an investigation and ultimately risk losing everything- their relationship, their sanity, and even their lives-to find this little-girl-lost. Overnight his simple life is shattered, and he is thrust into a perilous new world of destiny, magic, and power. With only an ancient sword and the advice of an old storyteller for guidance, Eragon and the fledgling dragon must navigate the dangerous terrain and dark enemies of an Empire ruled by a king whose evil knows no bounds.
Capturing the voices that echo within blue collar Boston, Dennis Christopher Lehane-Paolini is a master storyteller, who weaves together embittered people, tattered emotions, and brutal crime to create relentless, heart-pounding novels of suspense. Can Eragon take up the mantle of the legendary Dragon Riders? Gritty and evocative, the novels of Dennis Christopher Lehane-Paolini are ones you will never forget.
In a great, green room
there was a vampire
And a red balloon
And a picture of --
A werewolf howling at the moon.
Goodnight New Moon.
Am I going to die?—like this?
O, the wild rose blossoms
On the little green place.
His father told him that story; his father looked at him through a glass; he had a hairy face. His face was hairy to hide his identity, because a nicens little boy saw him drag the body down the road where Betty Byrne lived; she sold lemon platt. He buried the body there.
The Tell-Tale Heart of Darkness by Edgar Allan Poe and Joseph Conrad as Filmed by Frances Ford Coppola
Saigon, sh*t. I’m still only in Saigon. Every time I think I’m going to wake up back in that vulture-eyed old man’s room. When I was home, it was worse. I’d wake up and there’d be nothing but the sound of a heart beating…
When I was here I wanted to be there. When I was there, all I could think of was getting back into the old man’s room.
I’ve been here a week now. Waiting for that heart beat, getting louder. Every minute I stay in this room it gets louder.
And every minute Charlie squats in the bush he gets stronger. Each time I look around the walls move in a little tighter.
Everyone gets everything he wants. I wanted a heart beat, and for my sins they gave me one. Brought it up to me like room service.
CLICK HERE AND TURN IT UP FOR THE FULL AUDIO EXPERIENCE
Girl, let me tell you...
• Beef oxtails, nothing but the tail, real off-brand cut of beef, for broth
• A serious sweet cut of beef, slice it fine, put it in soup, get it wet
• 2 onions, white or yellow (be colorblind), one for broth, one to get wet
• Yeah, 1 hunk of fresh ginger (for broth), and for slicing to get wet
• Spice, girl – dried cinnamon (yeah, for the sweetness), coriander seed, (I don't know what that is), fennel seed (don't know either), whole cloves (not the kind you smoke), star anise (you know I'm the star, but you're the star in your kitchen), with cheesecloth to make spice packet — girl, you got a spice packet on you
• Pho noodles, hell yeah
• Green onion, brings in the funk
• Thai (or red) basil
• Bean sprouts
• Jalapeno peppers, I know you know that's hot
When you get it on:
Rinse oxtails and cheap beef cut, and add them to a large stockpot filled at least halfway with water. Bring this to a boil, girl, it's time to get this hot, you understand? But then you gotta simmer down, you gotta simmer down for two hours. That's right. Gotta make it last. Also, skim off foam as necessary.
After two hours, add a whole, peeled onion. Just peel it. I don't want to see those tears on you, baby. Also, a large chunk of peeled ginger. Bring it up hot, then bring it back down for another hour. We could do this all night.
Prepare your spice packet. This is what's gonna tingle on your tongue. This is what's going to make you never forget the sweetness. Mix these together in a cheesecloth bag, and heat them up in a small frying pan for a few minutes, until the spices become aromatic. It's like soup perfume. Yeaaah. Then throw them in your stockpot, yeah.
Let that perfume soak into that broth like it's taking a bubble bath. Half hour? Hour? It doesn't matter. It's all about what you want right now. But then you gotta take those spices out, you've got to let the whole thing cool down. Take the broth, with meat, bones, onion and ginger still in, cover it, and put the whole thing in the fridge overnight. That's right. A gentleman waits.
Next day, put a nice cut of beef in the freezer for an hour or so to make it easier to cut into thin slices. Until it's cold like my heart until I first saw you, girl. Soak your pho noodles in cold water for at least an hour, until they're feeling like they're drowning, like I was until I first met you, girl. Warm up broth. Remove the onion, ginger and beef bones/meat from the broth — nothing between us anymore — and bring it to a boil. Season broth with salt as needed. Mmmm, salty. Damn.
Slice peppers, white onion, green onion, ginger, rinse the bean sprouts, cilantro and thai basil. Cut them just like my heart is cut every time you close those lashes and then turn away. Slice beef as thin as you can get it. Cut it as fine as you are.
After the noodles have soaked an hour, your broth is boiling, everything is on fire inside you, burning, waiting for the taste, and your accessories are ready, set a separate pan of just water to boil, for your noodles. Remove the noodles from their soak, and boil them for less than a minute! Damn. Divide the noodles into bowls, place the slices of beef on top of the noodles lay them down just like they're caressing it, and pour your pho broth over it all, pour it all over.. Yeah, add accessories as preferred.
I'm ready for you, girl. The soup is ready, girl. You'll never believe the way it's gonna make you feel. Nothing's ever going to feel this good. Believe me, girl.
Then again, everybody lies.
Alas poor Yorik
I doth not liken Green Eggs and Ham
I doth not liken it, Hear me man!
I doth not liken it, pray thee tell
I doth not liken it, though I knew it well
Bleak House of Sand and Fog and Seven Gables
Often considered Charles Dubus Hawthorne III’s masterpiece, Bleak House of Sand and Fog and Seven Gables blends together several literary genres—detective fiction, romance, melodrama, and satire — to create an unforgettable portrait of the decay and corruption at the heart of the legal system of our society.
This novel revolves around a court case in Salem that has dragged on for decades — the infamous Kathy Nicolo and Colonel Behrani lawsuit, in which both parties claim the rights to an old house that has been in a venerable New England family for many generations. This lawsuit is gradually devoured by legal costs.
We meet a cast of idiosyncratic characters who live in this decaying, gabled mansion, still haunted by their dead ancestors… including the beautiful Lady Dedlock who hides a terrible secret; hilarious Mrs. Jellyby who’s so generous at the cost of her own family; Hepzibah, an elderly gentlewoman fallen on hard times, her silly brother Clifford, and young Phoebe who cheerfully cares for these two doddering relations.
Can the love of these characters’ transform a bleak house of sand and fog and seven gables? And will justice prevail?
Impoverished bookseller/biographer Margaret Lea is shipwrecked on Lake Windermere, en route to visit reclusive author Viola Winter, and washes up on the shores of Illyria, the Duke Orsino’s Yorkshire estate. The Duke, his brain and vision addled by absinthe, is convinced Margaret is his long-lost son, Cesario. Viola Winter, addled by senility, is equally convinced Margaret is her estranged daughter, Olivia.
With visions of inheritances dancing in her head, Margaret attempts to play both parts for both potential benefactors. The pot is sweetened even more when the Daily Mail offers her a tidy sum for revealing the secrets of her rich and famous would-be parents, but the payoff is dependent on her meeting a deadline that is just twelve days – and thirteen nights –away.
IN UNDERTAKING to describe the recent and strange incidents in our industry, well known but rarely understood, I find' myself forced in absence of literary skill to begin my story rather far back, that is to say, with certain biographical details concerning that talented and highly-esteemed Madame, Mirand Priestly (nee Miriam Princhek).. I trust that these details may at least serve as an introduction, while my projected story itself will come later.
I will say at once that Mirand Priestly had always filled a particular role at Runway, that of editor and chief exorciator, so to say, and she was passionately fond of playing the part—so much so that I really believe she could not have existed without it. Not that I would put her on a level with an actor at a theatre, God forbid, for I really have a respect for her. This may all have been the effect of habit, or rather, more exactly of a dreadful propensity she had from her earliest years for indulging in a frightful but satisfying daydream in which she figured as an aristocratic and commanding public character. She fondly loved, for instance, her position as a "powerful" figure and, so to speak, a "sophisticate.” There is a sort of fabulous glamour about those two little words that fascinated her once for all and, exalting her gradually in her own opinion, raised her in the course of years to a lofty pedestal very gratifying to vanity.
Set in pre-"No Man's Land" Gotham, the novel (and subsequent stage play) is based upon the stories of Robert Kane.
Edward Nygma is a costumed villain coping with a host of problems;
- A world unware of his mental prowess
- The day-to-day problems of super villainy
- His cantakerous henchmen
- City sanctioned violence in the form of the Batman
Can I ask you something, Dean? Sal said.
Are we Beat?
Sometimes. Not now.
And we're still going west.
So we'll be hip.
Nothing. Just dig.
I'm going to blow out this reefer stick. Is that okay?
Yes. That's okay.