събота, 25 януари 2014 г.

Словесни концентрати: "A Hat Full of Sky", Terry Pratchett

The old boots, even though she had to wear several pairs of socks with them, were much more comfortable and really easy to walk in. They’d been walking since long before Tiffany was born, and knew how to do it.

Wishes needed thought. She was never likely to say out loud, “I wish that I could marry a handsome prince” but knowing that if you did you’d probably open the door to find a stunned prince, a tied-up priest, and a Nac Mac Feegle grinning cheerfully and ready to act as best man definitely made you watch what you said.

The kitchen was cold and quiet, except for the ticking of a clock on the wall. Both the hands had fallen off the clock face and lay at the bottom of the glass cover, so while the clock was still measuring time, it wasn’t inclined to tell anyone about it.

Most people  used the traditional method of finding out whether plants were poisonous or useful by testing them on some elderly aunt they didn’t need, but Miss Level was pioneering new techniques that she hoped would mean life would be better for everyone (and, in the case of the aunts, often longer, too).

A lawn meant you were posh enough to afford to give up valuable potato space.

We heard a song - it went “Twinkle twinkle little star….” What power! What wondrous power! You can take a billion trillion tons of flaming matter, a furnace of unimaginable strength, and turn it into a little song for children.

One of the most amazing things about the universe, was that, sooner or later, everything is made of everything else, although it’ll probably take millions and millions of years for this to happen. Tiffany knew that what had once been tiny living creatures was now the chalk of the hills. Everything went around, even stars.

“Rain don’t fall on a witch if she doesn’t want it to, although personally I prefer to get wet and be thankful.”
“Thankful for what?” said Tiffany.    
“That I’ll get dry later.”

Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.

Няма коментари: