1 dalis
ČIBOS MIESTO BLIUZAS

VIENAS
Dangus virš uosto buvo spalvos televizoriaus, rodančio negyvą kanalą.
- Ne tai, kad aš apsinešęs, – Keisas išgirdo kažką sakant, jam braunantis pečiais pro minią link Pokalbio durų. – Tiesiog, atrodo, kad mano kūnas įgavo tokį masyvų narkotiko deficitą. – Tai Irštvos balsas ir Irštvos pokštas. Čatsubo baras buvo skirtas profesionaliems ekspatriantams; galėjai čia gerti visą savaitę ir neišgirsti nė dviejų žodžių japoniškai.
Žiurkius prižiūrėjo barą, jo prostetinė ranka monotoniškai trūkčiojanti, jam pildant stikliukų dėklą grimzlinuotu Kirinu. Pamatęs Keisą šis šyptelėjo, jo dantys Rytų Europos plieno ir rūdžių ėduonies tinklas. Keisas rado vietos prie baro, prie neįtikėtinai įdegusios Lonio Zonos kekšės ir raibuliuojančios karinio jūros laivyno uniformos, priklausančios aukštam afrikiečiui, kurio skruostikauliai buvo įrėžti preciziškom genties randų eilėmis. – Veidžas buvo čia anksti, su dviem žaliūkais, – Žiurkius leptelėjo, pastumdamas birzgalą per barą savo gerąja ranka. – Galbūt šiek tiek reikalų su tavim, Keisai?
Keisas gūžtelėjo pečiais. Mergina jo dešinėje sukrizeno ir stuktelėjo jį alkūne.
Barmeno šypsena praplatėjo. Jo bjaurastis buvo legendinė. Įperkamo grožio amžiuje, buvo kažkas heraldiško apie jo trūkumą. Antikvarinė ranka suzirzė jam siekiant kito puodelio. Tai buvo rusų militaristinis protezas, septyn-funkcinis grįžtamojo-ryšio manipuliatorius, padengtas purvinu rūžavu plastiku. – Esi per daug artistiškas, Herr Keisai. – Žiurkius suniurnėjo; garsas patarnavo jam už juoką. Jis rūžava letena pasikasė pilvą per savo nutįsusius baltus marškinius. – Esi šiek tiek juokingo reikalo artistas.
- Žinoma, – Keisas tarstelėjo ir gurkštelėjo alaus. – Kažkam reikia būti juokingam čia. Aišku, kaip velnias, kad ne tau.
Kekšės kikenimas pakilo oktava.
[...]

“Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.”
― Anita Desai

“Usually a feeling of disappointment follows the book, because what I hoped to write is not what I actually accomplished. However, it becomes a motivation to write the next book.”
― Anita Desai

“Reality is merely one-tenth visible section of the iceberg that one sees above the surface of the ocean - art remaining nine-tenths of it that lies below the surface. That is why it is more near Truth than Reality itself. Art does not merely reflect Reality - it enlarges it.”
― Anita Desai

“It is never too late to be wise.”
― Daniel Defoe, Robinson Crusoe

“I saw the Cloud, though I did not foresee the Storm.”
― Daniel Defoe, Moll Flanders

“She was ready to deny the existence of space and time rather than admit that love might not be eternal.”
― Simone de Beauvoir, The Mandarins

“One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.”
― Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex

“What an odd thing a diary is: the things you omit are more important than those you put in.”
― Simone de Beauvoir, The Woman Destroyed

“Few tasks are more like the torture of Sisyphus than housework, with its endless repetition: the clean becomes soiled, the soiled is made clean, over and over, day after day.”
― Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex

“A truly great book should be read in youth, again in maturity and once more in old age, as a fine building should be seen by morning light, at noon and by moonlight.”
― Robertson Davies

“Extraordinary people survive under the most terrible circumstances and they become more extraordinary because of it.”
― Robertson Davies

“I wish people weren\'t so set on being themselves, when that means being a bastard.”
― Robertson Davies, The Rebel Angels

“To ask an author who hopes to be a serious writer if his work is autobiographical is like asking a spider where he buys his thread. The spider gets his thread right out of his own guts, and that is where the author gets his writing.”
― Robertson Davies

“To be apt in quotation is a splendid and dangerous gift. Splendid, because it ornaments a man\'s speech with other men\'s jewels; dangerous, for the same reason.”
― Robertson Davies

“You are an Universe of Universes and your soul a source of songs.”
― Ruben Darío

„The tree is happy because it is scarcely sentient;
the hard rock is happier still, it feels nothing:
there is no pain as great as being alive,
no burden heavier than that of conscious life.“
― Ruben Darío

“In the world I am
Always a stranger
I do not understand its language
It does not understand my silence”
― Bei Dao

“you take the poem\'s last line and
lock it center heart------it\'s your center of gravity”
― Bei Dao, At the Sky\'s Edge: Poems 1991-1996

“My course is set for an uncharted sea.”
― Dante Alighieri

“The path to paradise begins in hell.”
― Dante Alighieri

“Remember tonight... for it is the beginning of always.”
― Dante Alighieri

“Nature is the art of God.”
― Dante Alighieri

“Within a Hell of godless emptiness
submit yourself ever more to sleep\'s spell.
All is a dream, all is nothingness:
the flower of the world is the asphodel.”
― Gabriele D\'Annunzio, Poema paradisiaco

“So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in its place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books.”
― Roald Dahl, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

“It doesn\'t matter who you are or what you look like, so long as somebody loves you.”
― Roald Dahl, The Witches

“So Matilda’s strong young mind continued to grow, nurtured by the voices of all those authors who had sent their books out into the world like ships on the sea. These books gave Matilda a hopeful and comforting message: You are not alone.”
― Roald Dahl, Matilda

“The books transported her into new worlds and introduced her to amazing people who lived exciting lives. She went on olden-day sailing ships with Joseph Conrad. She went to Africa with Ernest Hemingway and to India with Rudyard Kipling. She travelled all over the world while sitting in her little room in an English village.”
― Roald Dahl, Matilda

“A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom. He has no master except his own soul, and that, I am sure, is why he does it.”
― Roald Dahl