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A smaller rocket cut across the sky, trailing smoke. It exploded in a red heart. "Awwwww!" said the crowd. "Upside down," said Sean. The heart was, indeed, upside down. It grew and grew, upside down, until it's lights trailed and faded. A bigger rocket exploded in bright golden sparks, and then came another red heart. "Upside down," said all the boys. Three explosions layered on top of one another, gold, blue, pink. Then still another red heart exploded, growing and growing before it faded. "Upside down," said everyone in the boat but me. My own heart expanded for Adam. I whispered, "I know what he meant. ↗
He sighed, then said, "So basically, you're stalking her." "I am NOT stalking her." I insisted. "That's where you come in. If I followed her by myself, someone who did not understand the situation and did not realize that I am so responsible-" McGillicuddy snorted. "- might mistake what I am doing for stalking. However, her big brother is with me. Therefore we are protecting her. ↗
Некоторые критики ошибочно считают, что «Эгоистичный ген» проповедует эгоизм как нравственный принцип, которого мы должны придерживаться в жизни! Другие (возможно, потому, что они прочитали только заглавие книги или не пошли дальше первых двух страниц) полагают, что по моему мнению эгоизм и другие скверные черты характера составляют неотъемлемую часть человеческой природы, нравится нам это или нет. В эту ошибку легко впасть, если вы считаете, как, по-видимому, полагают непостижимым образом многие другие люди, что генетическая «детерминированность» дана нам навсегда, что она абсолютна и необратима. На самом же деле гены «детерминируют» поведение лишь в статистическом смысле (см. также с. 44–47). Хорошей аналогией этому служит широко распространенное мнение, что красный закат обещает ясную погоду на следующий день. Возможно, что по статистике красный закат действительно предвещает великолепную погоду назавтра, но никто не станет заключать об этом пари на крупную сумму. Мы прекрасно знаем, что на погоду действует множество факторов и притом очень сложными путями. Любое предсказание погоды подвержено ошибкам. Это всего лишь предсказание, опирающееся на статистику. Мы не считаем, что красные закаты бесспорно определяют хорошую погоду назавтра и точно так же мы не должны считать гены окончательными детерминантами чего бы то ни было. Нет никаких причин, чтобы влияние генов нельзя было повернуть в противоположную сторону с помощью других воздействий. ↗
The hand that rested on my shoulder rubbed it a bit, comfortingly. Then it gave my shoulder a little squeeze. I leaned into him. Maybe it was that I was broken. Maybe it was just that I was out of my mind. But it occurred to me that I was going to kiss him. The thought just arrived, certain knowledge, delivered from some greater, more knowledgeable place. I was going to kiss him. Stephen would not want to kiss me. He would back up in horror. And yet, I was still going to do it. I reached over, and put my hand against his chest, then I moved closer. I could feel just the very tips of the gentle stubble on his cheek brushing against my skin. "Rory," he said. But it was a quiet protest, and it went nowhere. For the first few seconds, he didn't move-he accepted the kiss like you might accept a spoonful of medicine. Then I heard it, a sigh, like he had finally set down a heavy weight. I was pretty sure we were both kind of terrified, but I was completely sure that we were both doing this. We kissed slowly, very deliberately, coming together and then pulling apart and looking at each other. Then each kiss got longer, and then it didn't stop. Stephen put his hand just under the edge of my shirt, holding it on the spot where the scar was. Sometimes the skin around the scar got cold-now it was warm. Now it was alive. "So Thorpe says that-Seriously?" Callum was in the doorway. Stephen mumbled what I think was a very obscene word right against my mouth. "You realize I now owe Boo five pounds?" Callum said. "Boo! I owe you five pounds! ↗
Home is a notion that only nations of the homeless fully appreciate and only the uprooted comprehend. ↗
That is what is marvelous about school, she realized: when you are in school, your talents are without number, and your promise is boundless. You ace a math test: you will one day work for NASA. The choir director asks you to sing a solo at the holiday concert: you are the next Mariah Carey. You score a goal, you win a poetry contest, you act in a play. And you are everything at once: actor, astronomer, gymnast, star. But at a certain point, you begin to feel your talents dropping away, like feathers from a molting bird. Cello lessons conflict with soccer practice. There aren't enough spots on the debating team. Calculus remains elusive. Until the day you realize that you cannot think of a single thing you are wonderful at. ↗
The conflict between the will to deny horrible events and the will to proclaim them aloud is the central dialectic of psychological trauma. ↗
...I is another. If the brass wakes the trumpet, it’s not its fault. That’s obvious to me: I witness the unfolding of my own thought: I watch it, I hear it: I make a stroke with the bow: the symphony begins in the depths, or springs with a bound onto the stage. If the old imbeciles hadn’t discovered only the false significance of Self, we wouldn’t have to now sweep away those millions of skeletons which have been piling up the products of their one-eyed intellect since time immemorial, and claiming themselves to be their authors! ↗
