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Grex > Books > #100: The Summer Mysterious Quote item | |
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| Author |
Message |
| 25 new of 104 responses total. |
beeswing
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response 16 of 104:
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Jun 26 05:00 UTC 2001 |
I am watching bees too :) Har!
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mdw
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response 17 of 104:
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Jun 26 05:21 UTC 2001 |
I hope it's not that vampire woman, Anne Rice.
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swa
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response 18 of 104:
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Jun 26 06:57 UTC 2001 |
Laurie King.
I *think* that's the name I'm thinking of.
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mooncat
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response 19 of 104:
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Jun 26 14:58 UTC 2001 |
Hmm, when someone gets it right I'll be interested in looking this book
up, sounds like fun.
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rcurl
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response 20 of 104:
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Jun 26 17:15 UTC 2001 |
Summer 2001 agora 21 has been linked to books 100.
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blaise
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response 21 of 104:
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Jun 26 18:43 UTC 2001 |
Carole Nelson Douglas.
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janc
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response 22 of 104:
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Jun 26 21:03 UTC 2001 |
Sara has it: Laurie R. King.
I've only read her Holmes books. The series so far is:
The Beekeeper's Apprentice
A Monsterous Regiment of Women
A Letter of Mary
The Moor
Oh Jerusalem
The first two quotes were from "A Letter of Mary", the remainder from "The
Beekeeper's Apprentice". The first and last books listed are good fun. For
some reason I omitted to buy "The Moor". There is, of course, a whole genre
of Sherlock Holmes stories, so I thought it'd be fun to do a quote where the
main character was immediately identifiable, but the author not. I was
tempted by Larry Millet's Adventures of Sherlock Holmes in Minnesota (yes,
three whole books about Holmes in Minnesota), but they aren't really that
good. I've never felt he really capture the real Holmes as well as Ms King
does.
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rcurl
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response 23 of 104:
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Jun 27 01:03 UTC 2001 |
There is, of course a Doyle story that describes at length events
that occurred in America, albeit not in Minnesota.
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gelinas
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response 24 of 104:
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Jun 27 04:50 UTC 2001 |
There is? I've read the Complete Sherlock Holmes, but I don't remember any
story describing his time in America. One opens with him smoking a cigarette
and blaming it on his trip, but that's it. An argument could be made that
A Study in Scarlet and The Three (or was it Five?) Orange Pips reflect
knowledge gained while travelling across America.
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rcurl
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response 25 of 104:
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Jun 27 05:17 UTC 2001 |
Its A Study in Scarlet. It doesn't describe any events Holmes or Watson
were involved in in America - but I didn't say it did.
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aruba
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response 26 of 104:
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Jun 27 05:21 UTC 2001 |
It's THe Sign of the Four, isn't it? I think so. It starts out in England
and then abruptly shifts to America.
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rcurl
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response 27 of 104:
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Jun 27 05:41 UTC 2001 |
Nope. The Sign only visits India, Andaman Islands, and England.
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gelinas
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response 28 of 104:
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Jun 27 05:49 UTC 2001 |
So I mis-read your original statement, in context. ;/
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davel
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response 29 of 104:
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Jun 27 12:56 UTC 2001 |
_The_Valley_of_Fear_ also has much of its action in the US.
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swa
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response 30 of 104:
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Jun 30 04:35 UTC 2001 |
I must confess I haven't actually read these. Just pulled the name out of my
head from memories of shelving at the used bookstore I used to work at.
(Questions like: "I'm looking for something by that woman who writes Sherlock
Holmes stories" are somewhat easier than the usual: "So I'm looking for this
book, I think it had a blue cover, don't remember the title but it was really
good.") I remember thinking at the time that they looked interesting, and
these quotes confirmed that impression.
I shall post something tomorrow.
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swa
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response 31 of 104:
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Jul 1 07:10 UTC 2001 |
The thing about Manhattan is that everything is here, all mixed together,
that's what I love about it. Ugly things and beautiful things you didn't even
think could exist. It's loud and dirty, our apartment is teeny and you have to
walk up eight flights to get to it but we have a fireplace with carved angels,
a leopard-print chaise lounge, Maxfield Parrish prints of nymphs in classical
sunset gardens, pink-damask drapes and silk roses in platform shoes from the
40's and 70's that Izzy has collected. Izzy grows real roses in pots on the
fire escape. She loves flowers and is always teaching me the names of
different ones. She especially likes the ones with really ugly names.
Anastasia grows oregano, dill, parsley and basil on the fire escape. She uses
them in her special inter-international recipes. Anastasia believes you should
never be afraid to mix cultures. She makes a Japanese-Italianish miso-pesto
sauce for pasta and a bright-pink tandoori tofu stir-fry. I can tell what
she's making just by sniffing the air. Sometimes when Anastasia doesn't feel
like cooking, she and Izzy and I go to our favorite restaurants. We have
golden curried-vegetable samosas and yogurt-cucumber salad under trees filled
with fireflies in the courtyard of our favorite Indian restaurant. We have
fettuccine at an Italian place where the Mafia guys used to shoot each other
while they were sucking up pasta. We like the pink and green rice chips and
the rose petals in the salad with the peanut dressing and the ginger tofu at
our Thai place. There is a Middle Eastern restaurant we go to where you can
get minty tabbouleh and yummy mushy hummus in pita bread for really cheap, and
a funny Russian restaurant with bright murals of animals in people clothes
dancing around cottages in the countryside. We eat borscht there, and drink
tea from a silver samovar.
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remmers
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response 32 of 104:
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Jul 1 13:11 UTC 2001 |
(Can you fix your formatting? Your long lines are wrapping, making
them difficult to read on a standard 80-column display.)
(Not that this would help me much, since I have no clue about the
author. ;-)
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swa
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response 33 of 104:
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Jul 3 02:15 UTC 2001 |
Oh dear. I'm not quite sure how I managed to do that.
Would it help to repost #31? If so, I will.
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swa
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response 34 of 104:
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Jul 5 03:55 UTC 2001 |
Okay, here's the first quote again, more readable, I hope. I'll post
another quote soon, in the hopes of eliciting at least *some* guesses.
The thing about Manhattan is that everything is here, all mixed together,
that's what I love about it. Ugly things and beautiful things you didn't
even think could exist. It's loud and dirty, our apartment is teeny and
you have to walk up eight flights to get to it but we have a fireplace
with carved angels, a leopard-print chaise lounge, Maxfield Parrish prints
of nymphs in classical sunset gardens, pink-damask drapes and silk roses
in platform shoes from the 40's and 70's that Izzy has collected. Izzy
grows real roses in pots on the fire escape. She loves flowers and is
always teaching me the names of different ones. She especially likes the
ones with really ugly names. Anastasia grows oregano, dill, parsley and
basil on the fire escape. She uses them in her special
inter-international recipes. Anastasia believes you should never be
afraid to mix cultures. She makes a Japanese-Italianish miso-pesto sauce
for pasta and a bright-pink tandoori tofu stir-fry. I can tell what she's
making just by sniffing the air. Sometimes when Anastasia doesn't feel
like cooking, she and Izzy and I go to our favorite restaurants. We have
golden curried-vegetable samosas and yogurt-cucumber salad under trees
filled with fireflies in the courtyard of our favorite Indian restaurant.
We have fettuccine at an Italian place where the Mafia guys used to shoot
each other while they were sucking up pasta. We like the pink and green
rice chips and the rose petals in the salad with the peanut dressing and
the ginger tofu at our Thai place. There is a Middle Eastern restaurant
we go to where you can get minty tabbouleh and yummy mushy hummus in pita
bread for really cheap, and a funny Russian restaurant with bright murals
of animals in people clothes dancing around cottages in the countryside.
We eat borscht there, and drink tea from a silver samovar.
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janc
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response 35 of 104:
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Jul 6 02:46 UTC 2001 |
Haven't got a guess to offer, but sounds pretty recent.
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swa
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response 36 of 104:
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Jul 6 03:08 UTC 2001 |
Indeed, the author is both contemporary and American.
Here's a quote from another work:
Todd had grown up in Northern California in a big ranch house called
Love Farm, with five brothers and sisters. His parents had an
antiquarian book shop called The Book of Love and grew all their own
organic vegetables. They encouraged their children to put on plays for
them after dinner -- TV did not exist at Love Farm. Todd was the
oldest, and everyone knew he would become a big star, possibly on the TV
none of them watched, although his parents often cautioned him about the
dangers of Hollywood; they had met there on a chewing-gum commercial,
fallen instantly in love over a single piece of gum (shared), and
decided to get out while they were still relatively unscarred by the
business.
Todd's expansive, loving, freewheeling nature was encouraged. He
smoked pot and discussed the Beat poets with his parents; he ran through
the woods with his brothers and sisters, leading them at games of
Indians and Indians (no one would be the Cowboys); he wrote the plays
they performed at night, soliciting the services of girls in the
neighborhood to inhabit the role of leading lady. The plays were always
romantic and ended with a passionate kiss, much to the dismay of Todd's
younger siblings, who found it all particularly stomach-turning. But
Todd's audience and his co-stars enjoyed the romance. And of course, so
did Todd, who felt privately that his calling in life was to kiss as
many girls as possible and let even more watch him doing it so they
could live vicariously through the ones on screen.
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ivynymph
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response 37 of 104:
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Jul 6 08:19 UTC 2001 |
(As soon as we find out what this is from, I think I'm going to find and read
it! :)
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swa
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response 38 of 104:
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Jul 7 22:07 UTC 2001 |
Maybe I should have picked a different author?
These quotes are from someone generally classified as a young adult author.
I'll post another quote tomorrow.
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swa
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response 39 of 104:
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Jul 10 04:40 UTC 2001 |
I knocked and waited. I knocked again. My heart was imitating my fist.
What if my father answered the door? After a while I heard footsteps
and the sound of a peephole opening. A tall white-haired man, with a
huge white moustache that curled up at the ends, opened the door.
"Hello," he boomed Swissly.
"Hi," I said. "I'm looking for somebody."
"Who are you looking for?" He twirled the end of his moustache around
his finger and glowered at me.
"Irving Rose," I said.
The man's blue eyes looked like they were doing a jig and the rest of
his body seemed like it would follow any second. His cheeks turned
pinker. "You know Irving Rose! The genius! I haven't seen him in
years."
"He used to live here?" I asked.
"Yes he did. In this very apartment. I moved in when he left."
"Who are you?" I asked.
"The landlord, Uncle Hansel," the man said. He bowed so low that I was
afraid his moustache would tickle me. Instead all that happened was I
got a little dizzy from his cologne. Then he put out his big hand and I
shook it. I tried to see behind him, into the apartment where my father
used to live.
"Could I come in?" I asked.
"Didn't anyone tell you that children shouldn't go into the apartments
of strange men!" Uncle Hansel scolded.
"You're not strange," I reassured him, still trying to see.
"Well, all right, but we'll leave the door wide open and you must run
out if you feel in the least uncomfortable, dear," Uncle Hansel
insisted.
I followed him to a small, dim room that smelled of rye bread and
strawberry jam. It was filled with wooden furniture carved and painted
with hearts and flowers. There were jars of roses, ferns in birdcages,
a collection of mechanical windup toys and as many cuckoo clocks as
could fit on the walls. As I looked at them, they all started chiming,
and a flock of wooden cuckoos scooted in and out. I wondered if that
drove Uncle Hansel crazy, but he seemed to be enjoying it. He smiled
proudly at the birds and twirled his moustache.
"Would you like something to eat?" Uncle Hansel asked. "Although, come
to think of it, little girls aren't supposed to accept food from
strangers."
"You knew my father, though," I said. I was hungry, and I had a pretty
good sense of smell -- I bet there really would be rye bread and jam.
"Your father!" Uncle Hansel exclaimed. "Why of course! The genius!
You look just like him!"
"So could I maybe have a snack?" I asked.
"Of course. Come with me."
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davel
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response 40 of 104:
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Jul 11 13:08 UTC 2001 |
Interesting. Probably no one I've ever read or even ever heard of, though.
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