7.25.2007

de Deathly Hollows...

Si usted no ha terminado de leer Deathly Hollows o no lo leerá hasta que salga en español, abstenerse de leer abajo.

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I cannot say much, tomando en cuenta que solo lo he leído una vez, pero una vez es más que suficiente para decir un par de cosas.
Antes que nada. Un minuto de silencio por Severus, Remus, Fred & Mad-Eye.

Can't believe Fred's gone. De todos los personajes que Rowling pudo haber matado, definitivamente Fred era mi última opción. Debo decir, egoístamente, que George siempre fue mi favorito, y estoy feliz de que él no sufriera más daño que una oreja.

Severus *grief, grief, grief* todos lo esperábamos, creo yo. Todas sabíamos que al final Severus terminaría muerto. Además, no fue una muerte digna de él, el mejor profesor de pociones, el segundo Slytherin al mando de Hogwarts, merecía una muerte más ilustre, pero tenía que irse. Y que supiéramos eso, no hizo su muerte menos difícil.

Y Remus, muriendo con la metamórfaga esa, shame of shame. Ted me agrada xD snogging his cousin (which, i assume is Bill & Fleur's doughter...) most be easy for him, being a metamorphmagus and all... pero yo decía, la muerte de Remus también era predecible, el único marauder vivo, el único de la manada, it was meant to be...

Hablando de la manada, se q Row nunca le dio importancia a la rata, quién? Somos pocos los que en este mundo le hemos dado importancia a Peter, por eso es que su muerte me molestó tanto, que manera tan humillante de morir, si no un minuto de silencio, mis reverencias a Peter, uno de los Marauders.

Lo que si lamento es el final feliz, vamos!! Que pasa con el final cursi?? No puedo creerlo!! Cuando vi a Potter morir tan pronto supe que no moriría, no podía hacerlo, cómo matar la esperanza del bien contra el mal? Cómo mandar a tantos niños a terapia... el final fue... unexpected, i think, antes que nada, Albus Severus?! OMG!!! The most disgusting name i've ever heard or read. Si creí que solo Albus era nauseabundo, Severus me mató. Quién se cree ese estúpido Potter para usar el nombre de Severus así tan a la ligera, cuando lo leí, *disgusted* HO~RRI~BLE me dio un ataque por tirar el libro por la ventana. Lily y James, tan obvio... Hugo y Rose xD esos si me gustaron, al menos fueron originales, ya me esperaba yo Molly y Arthur, leugo de leer los de los Potters. Draco y su familia, cute! xD pero lo que más me mató (de ese capítulo, se entinte) “Don't get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood” xDDDD amo a Ron en este capítulo!! Es lo más Ron del mundo! ^^ odio al resto, though, todos tontos, pero en fin, que se puede pedir de un final lleno de florecitas y conejitos rosas saltando por ahí?? ¬¬ solo espero que el pequeño Albus Severus (que además el nombre no tiene rima ¬¬) termine en Hufflepuff (nada contra los huffies, though, solo que no lo quiero en mi casa...)

Mil cosas más que decir, pero esperaré a la segunda leída para analizarlo bien. La segunda leída viene luego de que relea HP&HBP though (maldita Rowling que para todo dice though, though...) entonces ya hablaremos...

Uh! Antes de irme, la SC de los Ravens, mis reverencias eternas, la forma de entrar, más reverencias aún.
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Love u all!! ^^

7.17.2007

new quotes

Y ya está. Acabo de terminar HP Goblet of Fire, por lo tanto la sección correspondiente está actualizada, aquí.
Este día quedará inmortalizado como el día en el que iré a ver la peli y empezaré a releer el quinto y sexto antes del 21 q salga el último libro de la saga. A ver que tal nos va entonces.
Besos ^^

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

chapter 7 [Bagman and Crouch] p.92
“Oh shut up, Weatherby,”

chapter 9 [The Dark Mark] p.139
− it was like she wasn't even human!”
“Well, she's not,”

chapter 9 [The Dark Mark] p.139
“Ron,” said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice, “Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now.... He's worried, and he's tired.... We all need to go to bed....”
“Yeah, I want to play Quidditch,” said Harry suddenly. “hang on, I'll get my Firebolt.”
Hermione left the room, muttering something that sounded very much like “Boys.”

chapter 11 [Aboard the Hogwarts Express] p.161
“Mad-Eye Moody?” said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his toast. “Isn't he that nutter −”
“Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody,” said Mrs. Weasley sternly.
“Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he?” said Fred quietly as Mrs. Weasley left the room. “Bids of a feather...”
“Moody was a great wizard in his time,” said Bill.
“He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?” said Charlie.
“Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?” said Fred. “I mean, I know he's a genius and everything...”

chapter 13 [Mad-Eye Moody] p.195&207
“(...)Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus.”

“Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret...”

chapter 17 [The Four Champions] p.280&282
“Alastor!” said Dumbledore warningly. Harry wondered for a moment whom he was speaking to, but then realized “Mad-Eye” could hardly be Moody's real first name.

“I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise.”

chapter 18 [The Weighing Of The Wands] p.312
Harry considered going after him − he wasn't sure whether he wanted to talk to him or hit him, both seemed quite appealing

chapter 19 [The Hungarian Horntail] p.329
He was going to be armed with his wand − wich, just now, felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood

chapter 21 [The House-Elf Liberation Front] p.329
“Percy wouldn't recognize a joke if it danced naked in front of him wearing Dobby's tea cozy.”
(otra de las clásicas)

chapter 22 [The Unexpected Task] p.386
Lavender Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry. Professor McGonagall ignored them, which Harry thought was distinctly unfair, as she had just told off him and Ron.

chapter 23 [The Yule Ball] p.408,415,416
“Someone attaking you, Harry?” Seamus asked sleepily.
“No, it’s jus Dobby,”

“I've been promoted,” Percy said before Harry could even ask, and form his tone, he might have been announcing his election as supreme ruler of the universe.

Harry wanted very much to ask whether Mr. Crouch had stopped calling Percy “Weatherby” yet, but he resisted the temptation.

chapter 24 [Rita Skeeter’s Scoop] p434
He even threw the egg across the room − though he hadn't really expected that to help.

chapter 26 [The Second Task] p484,486
Hagrid knew quite as much about unicorns as he did about monsters, though it was clear that he found their lack of poisonous fangs disappointing.

“(...)just go down to the lake tomorrow, right, stick your head in, yell at the merpeople to give you back whatever they've nicked, and see if they chuck it out. Best you can do, mate.”

She seemed to be taking the library's lack of useful information on the subject as a personal insult;

chapter 28 [The Madness of Mr. Crouch] p543
looking politely puzzled at all the attention.

chapter 32 [Flesh, Blood and Bone] p643
Lord Voldemort had risen again.

chapter 36 [The Parting of the Ways] p708&709
“(...)history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world(...)!”

snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his roves as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to fudge, who recoiled.
“There,” said Snape harshly. “There. The Dark Mark.(...)”
reverencias al abuelo. ::reverencias, reverencias::

7.10.2007

de Orwell

Terminé de leer 1984, por lo tanto la sección de Orwell está por ahora completa, algunas frases de las primeras partes. La tercera me tenía demasiado atrapada para poder sacar frases y la vdd the book no lo leí, ayer estaba no muy en mis cinco para ponerme en eso, aunq de haberlo hecho seguro q hubiera sacado una frase o dos.

En fin. Debo decir q la mayor parte de las citas del capítulo tres, parte dos son para.

1984

[Preface by Walter Cronkite] p.2
If not a prophecy, what was 1984? It was, as many have noticed, a warning: a warning about the future of human freedom in a world where political organization and technology can manufacture power in dimensions that would have stunned the imaginations of earlier ages.

Chapter V [ONE] p.45&46
“It’s a beautiful thing, the destruction of words”

“Take ‘good’, for instance. If you have a word like ‘good’, what need is there for a word like ‘bad’? ‘Ungood’ will do just as well −better, because it’s an exact opposite, which the other is not. Or again, if you want a stronger version of ‘good’, what sense is there in having a whole string of vague useless words like ‘excellent’ and ‘splendid’ and all the rest of them? ‘Plusgood’ covers the meaning, or ‘doubleplusgood’ if you want something stronger still.”

Chapter VII [ONE] p.64&69
For all he knew there might never have been any such law as the jus primae noctis, or any such creature as a capitalist, or any such garment as a top hat.

Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows.

Chapter II [TWO] p.105
“Well then, I ought to suit you, dear. I'm corrupt to the bones.”

That was above all what he wanted to hear. Not merely the love of one person but the animal instinct, the simple undifferentiated desire: that was the force that would tear the Party to pieces.

Their embrace had been a battle, the climax a victory. It was a blow struck against the Party. It was a political act.

Chapter III [TWO] p.106&107
(...)they could meet only in the streets,

(...)they drifted down the crowded pavements, not quite abreast and never looking at one another,

There were evenings when they reached their rendezvous and then had to walk past one another without a sign,

If you kept the small rules, you could break the big ones.

Chapter IV [TWO] p.116,118&121
(...)not desire, but affection.

(...)without feeling the obligation to make love every time they met.

Perhaps it was only when people were somewhere near the starvation level that they had anything to sing about.

(...)examining the absurd twelve-hour clock with a sort of tolerant amusement.

Chapter V [TWO] p.124&129
As though to harmonize with the general mood, the rocket bombs had been killing larger numbers of people than usual.

“You're only a rebel from the waist downwards,”

Chapter VII [TWO] p.137&138
If they could make me stop loving you − that would be the real betrayal.

But if the object was not to stay alive but to stay human, what difference did it ultimately make? They could not alter your feelings: for that matter you could not alter them yourself, even if you wanted to.

Chapter IX [TWO] p.153&165
War, however, is no longer the desperate, annihilating struggle that it was in the early decades of the twentieth century. It is a warfare of limited aims between combatants who are unable to destroy one another, have no material cause for fighting and are not divided by any genuine ideological difference.

The best books, (...) are those that tell you what you know already.

Chapter I [THREE] p.189
He hardly thought of Julia. He could not fix his mind on her. He loved her and would not betray her; but that was only a fact, known as he knew the rules of arithmetic. He felt no love for her, and he hardly even wondered what was happening to her.

Chapter I [THREE] p.220
Power is in inflicting pain and humiliation. Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing.


Read on line: http://www.george-orwell.org/1984