Josef Okey

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Elizabeth Tebby Germaine
“Hi Hazel Well here I am in the office and it’s dead quiet. What I’ll do is email pics of some of the stuff in the files and the comments with them. This is exactly what you wanted – stuff about the Games people played together with comments people made. Perfect!”
Elizabeth Tebby Germaine, A MAN WHO SEEMED REAL: A story of love, lies, fear and kindness

Rick Warren
“Failure is a part of everyone’s journey. But it is your attitude toward failure that will determine your ultimate success.”
Rick Warren, The Daniel Plan: 40 Days to a Healthier Life

“You are Popovic, right?’
Steve jumped to his feet and saluted. ‘Stefan Popovic, Flight Lieutenant RAF, sir.’
He was facing a man in the uniform of a colonel in the British Army. His first impression was that this was a man better suited to civilian dress than military uniform. He was in his middle years, with a round face, a high forehead and thick-rimmed glasses. They had not spoken before, but he knew who he was. Colonel Bailey had been dropped by parachute to the headquarters of General Draza Mihailovic on Christmas Day, as a representative of the British government. ‘But in spite of the name, you are not a Yugoslav, I’m told,’ the colonel continued.
‘No, sir. I’m an American. My grandparents emigrated to Alaska from Macedonia before the last war.”
Holly Green

Mark   Ellis
“Crete, May 1941. It was nearly five o’clock when the three soldiers reached the end of the olive grove. The dust-filled air shimmered in the late-afternoon heat. Their bodies ached, their uniforms were caked with dirt and sweat and they were hungry, thirsty and exhausted. The sensible thing now would be to lay up where they were for a few hours’ rest, then finish the journey under cover of darkness. But there was a tight deadline to meet. The evacuation vessel was scheduled to leave at midnight and they had been warned the captain wouldn’t wait for stragglers.”
Mark Ellis, The French Spy

Natalie Babbitt
“For the wood was full of light, entirely different from the light she was used to. It was green and amber and alive, quivering in splotches on the padded ground, fanning into sturdy stripes between the tree trunks. There were little flowers she did not recognize, white and palest blue; and endless, tangled vines; and here and there a fallen log, half rotted but soft with patches of sweet green-velvet moss.”
Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

year in books
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