But annabeth just smiled and put us in jail. as she was heading back to the front line, she turned and winked. "see you at the fireworks?" she didn't even wait for my answer before darting off into the woods. i looked at beckendorf. "did she just...ask me out?" he shrugged, completely disgusted. "who knows with girls? give me a haywire dragon, any day." so we sat together and waited while the girls won the game.
You don't get rich, you don't often have much fun. Sometimes you get beaten up or shot at or tossed into the jail house. Once in a long while you get dead. Every other month you decide to give it up and find some sensible occupation while you can still walk without shaking your head. Then the door buzzer rings and you open the inner door to the waiting room and there stands a new face with a new problem, a new load of grief, and a small piece of money.
How about proust's in search of lost time?" tamaru asked. "if you've never read it this would be a good opportunity to read the whole thing." "have you read it?" "no, i haven't been in jail, or had to hide out for a long time. someone once said unless you have those kinds of opportunities, you can't read the whole of proust.
A man cannot free himself by any self-denying ordinances, neither by water nor potatoes, nor by violent possibilities, by refusing to swear, refusing to pay taxes, by going to jail, or by taking another man's crops or squatting on his land. By none of these ways can he free himself; no, nor by paying his debts with money; only by obedience to his own genius.
The old rule about how a thing of beauty is a joy forever, in my experience, even the most beauteous thing is only a joy for about three hours, tops. After that, she'll want to tell you all about her childhood traumas. Part of meeting these jail girls is it's so sweet to look at your watch and know she'll be behind bars in half an hour.