Home > Work > Altered Carbon (Takeshi Kovacs, #1)
81 " Make it personal. "
― Richard K. Morgan , Altered Carbon (Takeshi Kovacs, #1)
82 " Една вечер, когато се бяхме напили, Сара ми каза: „Жените са расата, Так. Такава е истината. Мъжете са само мутанти с повече мускули и двойно по-малко нерви. Машини за бой и чукане“. Собствените ми преживявания в тела от другия пол подкрепяха тази теория. Да бъдеш жена бе преживяване, несравнимо с мъжкото битие. Усещането за допир ставаше много по-плътно, осигуряваше със средата взаимодействие, което мъжката плът сякаш инстинктивно избягва. За мъжа кожата е преграда, защита. За жената — контактен орган. "
83 " At about the same time I was working out there were no wounds in my chest someone wiped a towel roughly across my face and I could see. I decided to save that pleasure for later and concentrated on getting the contents of the tank out of my nose and throat. "
84 " Voltar dos mortos pode ser dureza. "
85 " Machines cost money to build. Raw materials cost money to extract. But people?” She made a tiny spitting sound. “You can always get some more people. They reproduce like cancer cells, whether you want them or not. They are abundant, "
86 " Already on course for the door, I made no attempt to detour in their direction, and this must have occurred to them only when I was halfway across the hall. Two of them drifted over to intercept me with the easy calm of big cats that have been fed recently. "
87 " I hesitated, pretending to weigh it up. “What’s the deal in the bar?” “Ha ha ha.” Someone had programmed a laugh into the robot. It sounded like a fat man drowning in syrup. "
88 " Incessant junk rhythm music thrashed the air as if this was the ventricle of some massive heart on tetrameth. "
89 " Nyman’s lips tightened to almost anal proportions. "
90 " Something was pushing me, something that had very little to do with the look the Mongol had given me. Something dark that had spread its wings on the low-key misery of the cabin, something uncontrolled that Virginia Vidaura would have bawled me out for. I could hear Jimmy de Soto whispering in my ear. “You waiting for me?” I asked the Mongol’s back, and saw how the muscles in it tensed. Maybe one of the dealers felt it coming. He held up his exposed hand in a placatory gesture. “Look, man,” he began weakly. I sliced him a glance out of the corner of my eye, and he shut up. “I said—” That was when it all came apart. "
91 " People envy me, people hate me. It is the price of success.” This was news to me. People hate me on a dozen different worlds, and I’ve never considered myself a successful man. "
92 " I remembered the way Reileen Kawahara had dealt with two unfaithful minions. The animal sounds they had made came back to me in dreams for a long time afterwards. Reileen’s argument, framed as she peeled an apple against the backdrop of those screams, was that since no one really dies anymore, punishment can come only through suffering. I felt my new face twitch, even now, with the memory. "
93 " Warden Sullivan, you’re not taking this in the spirit it’s intended. I am very concerned to know who you sold me to. I’m not going to go away, just because you have some residual scruples about client confidentiality. Believe me, they didn’t pay you enough to hold out on me. "
94 " The essence of control is to remain hidden from view, is it not? "
95 " Against the distant roar of the maelstrom I heard it. The hurrying strop of rotor blades on the fabric of the night. "
96 " Given enough traces of continuity, you could make a leap that enabled you to see the whole as a kind of premonition of real knowledge. "
97 " A weapon—any weapon—is a tool, she told us. Cradled in her arms was a Sunjet particle gun. Designed for a specific purpose, just as any tool is, and only useful in that purpose. You would think a man a fool to carry a force hammer with him everywhere simply because he is an engineer. And as it is with engineers, so it is doubly with Envoys. "
98 " Space, to use a cliché, is big. "
99 " They are what we once dreamed of as gods, mythical agents of destiny, as inescapable as Death, that poor old peasant laborer, bent over his scythe, no longer is. Poor Death, no match for the mighty altered-carbon technologies of data storage and retrieval arrayed against him. Once we lived in terror of his arrival. Now we flirt outrageously with his somber dignity, and beings like these won’t even let him in the tradesman’s entrance. "
100 " Kültür, kirli hava gibidir. Farkında olmasanız dahi etkilenirsiniz. "