It's a sort of computer. There are special drawing programs for it. For children,' she whispers a little louder. And something is shining in her eyes. Something that Ove recognizes.
Fredrick Backman
A year turned into several years, and several years turned into all the years. One morning you wake up with more life behind you than in front of you, not being able to understand how it's happened.
A team didn't mean anything if you couldn't depend on each other. That's both a big and a small thing. Knowing that there are people who will never abandon you.
Talent is like letting two balloons up into the air: the most interesting thing isn't watching which one climbs fastest, but which one has the longest string.
A job well done is a reward in its own right, as his father always used to say.
And it wasn't as if Ove also died when Sonja left him. He just stopped living. Grief is a strange thing
.. Just as Elsa opens Audi's door to jump out, he (Dad) turns to her hesitantly and says in a low voice: ".. But there are moments when I sincerely hope that not ALL your best traits come from Granny and Mum, Elsa." And then Elsa squeezes her eyes together tightly and puts her forehead against his shoulder and her fingers into her jacket pocket and spins the lid of the red felt-tip pen that he gave her when she was small, so she could add her own punctuation marks, and which is still the best present he's ever given her. Or anyone."You gave me your words," she whispers.
It [the Audi] has those new wave-shaped headlights, Ove notes, presumably designed so that no one at night will be able to avoid the insight that here comes a car driven by an utter shit.
He cleared his throat and looked around with a certain desperation to find something to ask this old man about. Because that was what Ove had learned: if one didn't have anything to say, one had to find something to ask. If there was one thing that made people forget to dislike one, it was when they were given the opportunity to talk about themselves.
Døden er en underlig ting. Folk lever hele sitt liv som om den ikke eksisterte, og likevel er den en av de viktigste grunnene til overhodet å leve mesteparten av tiden
The amount I love you, Noah, "she would tell him with her lips to his ear after she read fairy tales about elves and he was jut about to fall asleep, "the sky will never be that big.
Grandpa always calls him "Noahnoah" because he likes his grandson's name twice as much as everyone else's.
And when time no longer lies ahead of one, other things have to be lived for. Memories, perhaps. Afternoons in the sun with someone's hand clutched in one's ow. The fragrance of flowerbeds in fresh bloom. Sundays in a cafe. Grandchildren, perhaps. One finds a way of living for the sake of someone else's future.
It's one of those winter nights when the darkness is so thick it's as if the whole area has been dipped head first in a bucket of blackness, and The Monster steals out of the door and crosses the half-circle of light around the last light in the street so quickly that if Elsa had blinked a little too hard she would have thought she was imagining it. But as it is she knows what she saw, and she hits the floor and makes her way down the stairs in one fluid movement.
Hvis man ikke har noe å si, er det alltid lurt å spørre om noe. Er det noe som kan få folk til å glemme å mislike en, så er det å gi dem en anledning til å snakke om seg selv
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