Цитаты из книги «Никогде», страница 41

I want to go home. Then he mentally underlined the last sentence three times, rewrote it in huge letters in red ink, and circled it before putting a number of exclamation marks next to it in his mental margin.

- Вы меня убьете?

- Мы же благочестивые люди. Тебя убьет испытание, а не мы.

Мы как будто играем в игру "Найди голубя" на Трафальгарской площади.

Зачем таскать пирог в кармане?

... мое будущее столь же многообещающе, как будущее мухиоднодневки...

Richard looked around, puzzled. They were standing on the Embankment, the miles-long walkway that the Victorians had built along the north shore of the Thames, covering the drainage system and the newly created District Line of the Underground, and replacing the stinking mudflats that had festered along the banks of the Thames for he previous five hundred years. It was still night—or perhaps it was night once more. He was unsure how long they had been walking through the underplaces and the dark. There was no moon, but the night sky was a riot of crisp and glittering autumn stars. There were streetlights too, and lights on buildings and on bridges, which looked like earthbound stars, and they glimmered, repeated, as they were reflected with the city

in the night water of the Thames. It's fairyland, thought Richard.

Он медленно переходил от красной кипучей ярости к клейкой серой обиде.

Но есть одно, самое главное, что ты должна понять: все вещи испытывают потребность открыться.

But Jessica changed all that. Richard found himself, on otherwise sensible weekends, accompanying her to places like the National Gallery and the Tate Gallery, where he learned that walking around museums too long hurts your feet, that the great

art treasures of the world all blur into each other after a while, and that it is almost beyond the human capacity for belief to accept how much museum cafeterias will brazenly charge for a slice of cake and a cup of tea.

"Here's your tea and your éclair," he told her. "It would have cost less to buy one of those Tintorettos."

"Don't exaggerate," said Jessica cheerfully. "Anyway, there aren't any Tintorettos at the Tate."

"I should have had that cherry cake," said Richard. "Then they would have been able to afford another Van Gogh."

Напиток пах мятой, чабрецом и морозным зимним утром.