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“Hair like steel wool grew far back on his head and gave him a domed brown forehead that might at careless glance seemed a dwelling place for brains.”
― The Big Sleep
― The Big Sleep
“The summer of 2019 had overstayed its welcome in Florida,
lingering well into September. As if to make a point about global
warming, the rabid sun scorched the waters of Biscayne Bay for
weeks, generating a haze of humidity that blurred the line between
the windless sea and the sky above. Not to be accused of playing
favorites, the sun’s rays beat down on the land with equal spite,
pummeling grass, palms, and bushes into limp submission. The
heat weaponized asphalt roads and cement sidewalks, the shimmery
mirages above them a clear warning to all living things to stay away
or burn.”
― Eye for Eye
lingering well into September. As if to make a point about global
warming, the rabid sun scorched the waters of Biscayne Bay for
weeks, generating a haze of humidity that blurred the line between
the windless sea and the sky above. Not to be accused of playing
favorites, the sun’s rays beat down on the land with equal spite,
pummeling grass, palms, and bushes into limp submission. The
heat weaponized asphalt roads and cement sidewalks, the shimmery
mirages above them a clear warning to all living things to stay away
or burn.”
― Eye for Eye
“The Joy of Sex!—Elaine brought home that dreary tract one day, those tidings of comfort and joy by some Californicated Englishman, and we studied the ghastly pictures, the two hundred different positions. What a joyless book. That poor fucker the instructor-model, performing his gymnastic routines over and over, with slight variations, for three hundred pages, each and every time upon the same woman. No wonder he has that look on his soft hairy degenerate face of a bored he-dog hooked up on the street with an exhausted bitch, longing to leave but unable to extricate himself from what breeders call a “tie.” The woman in the book looks only slightly happier; somebody out of mercy should have emptied a bucket of ice water on the miserable couple. Technique, technique, technical engineering, curse of the modern world, debasing what should be a wild, free, spontaneous act of violent delight into an industrial procedure. Comfort’s treatise is a training manual, a workbook which might better have been entitled The Job of Sex.”
― The Fool's Progress
― The Fool's Progress
“The usual warmth of his hands wasn’t there. They chilled my skin as they slipped to my waist, and I realized he was scared.”
― Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes
― Karolina Dalca, Dark Eyes
“Y aunque sus trescientos valientes morirán... sólo siente que tenga tan pocos hombres que sacrificar.”
― 300
― 300
Elli’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Elli’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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Paranormal and Romance
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