miércoles, 2 de marzo de 2016

Review - Shards of Honor (Lois McMaster)

Average. An absolute standar adventure without surprises or nothing remarkable. If not for the fame of the sagas, this book would be completely forgeatable. Not Recommended. 

Rate 2

lunes, 29 de febrero de 2016

Vomitar

Franz tenía razón, ya era hora de organizar una exposición, daba vueltas en redondo desde hacía meses, esto empezaba a influir en su humor. Se puede trabajar en solitario durante años, es la única manera de trabajar, la verdad sea dicha; llega siempre un momento en que experimentas la necesidad de mostrar tu trabajo al mundo, menos para recibir su juicio que para tranquilizarte sobre la existencia de ese trabajo e incluso sobre tu existencia propia., la individualidad es apenas una ficción breve dentro de una especie social.

El mapa y el territorio, capítulo 1, Segunda parte - Michel Houellebecq

sábado, 27 de febrero de 2016

Pure Life

I guess I'm afraid he'll hurt me again." Cordelia thought that one over. "Probably. Aral and I hurt each other all the time."
"Oh, not you two, Milady! You seem so, so perfect."
"Think, Drou. Can you imagine what mental state Aral is in right this minute, because of my actions? I can. I do."
"Oh."
"But pain . . . seems to me an insufficient reason not to embrace life. Being dead is quite painless. Pain, like time, is going to come on regardless. Question is, what glorious moments can you win from life in addition to the pain?"
"I'm not sure I follow that, Milady

Barrayar, chapter 17 - Lois McMaster

viernes, 26 de febrero de 2016

Honor for love

Later, lying warm in the darkness in Vorkosigan's room in the Count's town house, Cordelia remembered a curiosity. "What did you say to the Emperor, about me?"
He stirred beside her, and pulled the sheet tenderly up over her bare shoulder, tenting them together. "Hm? Oh, that." He hesitated. "Ezar had been questioning me about you, in our argument about Escobar. Implied that you had affected my nerve, for the worse. I didn't know then if I'd ever see you again. He wanted to know what I saw in you. I told him . . ." he paused again, and then continued almost shyly, "that you poured out honor like a fountain, all around you."
"That's weird. I don't feel full of honor, or anything else, except maybe confusion."
"Naturally not. Fountains keep nothing for themselves."

Shards of Honour, chapter fifteen - Lois McMaster

jueves, 25 de febrero de 2016

El nuevo Salvador

No tenía ningún amigo íntimo y no buscaba la amistad ajena. En cambio, pasaba tardes enteras en la biblioteca, y a los dieciocho años, terminado el bachillerato, poseía un vasto conocimiento, inusual en los jóvenes de su generación, del patrimonio literario de la humanidad. Había leído a Platón, Esquilo y Sófocles; había leído a Racine, Molière y Hugo; conocía a Balzac, Dickens, Flaubert, a los románticos alemanes y a los novelistas rusos. Más sorprendente aún, estaba familiarizado con los principales dogmas de la fe católica, cuya huella en la cultura occidental había sido tan profunda, mientras que sus compañeros, por lo general, sabían sobre la vida de Jesús un poco menos que sobre la de Spiderman.

El mapa y el territorio, capítulo dos, primera parte - Michel Houellebecq

miércoles, 24 de febrero de 2016

What really matters

"He doesn't have a very good reputation."
"Yeah, I've seen some of it. It's all lies."
"He's—not a murderer, then?"
"Well . . ." Cordelia foundered on the truth. "He has k-killed a lot of people, I suppose. He's a soldier, you know. It's his job. It can't help spilling over a bit. I only know about three that weren't in the line of duty, though."
"Only three?" repeated her mother faintly. There was a pause. "He's not a, a sex criminal, then?" "Certainly not! “
 
Shards of Honour , chapter twelve - Lois McMaster

martes, 23 de febrero de 2016

Live! live! live!

Welcome to Barrayar, son. Here you go: have a world of wealth and poverty, wrenching change and rooted history. Have a birth; have two. Have a name. Miles means "soldier," but don't let the power of suggestion overwhelm you. Have a twisted form in a society that loathes and fears the mutations that have been its deepest agony. Have a title, wealth, power, and all the hatred and envy they will draw. Have your body ripped apart and re-arranged. Inherit an array of friends and enemies you never made. Have a grandfather from hell. Endure pain, find joy, and make your own meaning, because the universe certainly isn't going to supply it. Always be a moving target. Live. Live. Live

Barrayar, chapter 20 - Lois McMaster