The Boy Who Loved Words.epub !EXCLUSIVE!
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ReviewsWe're not the only ones who loved Abe Lincoln: The Boy Who Loved Books! It was a Junior Library GuildSelection and made it on the Chicago Public Library Best of the Best List for 2003! \"Her free-verse narrative takes on a suitably homespun directness...a qualityechoed in Carpenter's choice of oils on rough-textured canvas, in astyle reminiscent of Grandma Moses's work.\" (Publisher's Weekly)
Dinner hour was not over, and he made a quick detour by the Institute refectory to see if there was some spare food for a drop-in. He found that his name had already been put on the regular list, and he found the food excellent. There was even a dessert, stewed preserved fruit. Shevek loved sweets, and as he was one of the last diners and there was plenty of fruit left over, he took a second dish. He ate alone at a small table. At larger tables nearby groups of young people were talking over their empty plates; he overheard discussions on the behavior of argon at very low temperatures, the behavior of a chemistry teacher at a colloquium, the putative curvatures of time. A couple of people glanced at him; they did not come speak to him, as people in a small community would speak to a stranger; their glance was not unfriendly, perhaps a little challenging.
Since he was very young he had known that in certain ways he was unlike anyone else he knew. For a child the consciousness of such difference is very painful, since, having done nothing yet and being incapable of doing anything, he cannot justify it. The reliable and affectionate presence of adults who are also, in their own way, different, is the only reassurance such a child can have; and Shevek had not had it. His father had indeed been utterly reliable and affectionate. Whatever Shevek was and what-ever he did, Palat approved and was loyal. But Palat had not had this curse of difference. He was like the others, like all the others to whom community came so easy. He loved Shevek, but he could not show him what freedom is, that recognition of each person's solitude which alone transcends it.
The reason for his moments of detesting Desar was clear to him now: a recognition, heretofore unadmitted, of the element of pure malice in Desar's personality. That Desar also loved him and was trying to gain power over him was equally clear, and, to Shevek, equally detestable. The devious ways of posseasivenesa, the labyrinths of love/hate, were meaningless to him. Arrogant, intolerant, he walked right through their walls. He did not speak again to the mathematician, but finished his breakfast and went off across the quadrangle, through the bright morning of early autumn, to the physics office.
I loved this book. Not sure about the political message implicit in it, but it was a very interesting thought experiment on anarchism. Does anyone have an in-depth reading of how anarchists should interpret what Le Guinn is saying
Then the gold was brought up, and the wedding celebrated, but howevermuch the young king loved his wife, and however happy he was, he still wasalways saying, \"If only I could shudder. If only I could shudder.\" Withtime this made her angry. 153554b96e