Дураков нет

В этом-то вся и беда, когда ты больной и старый. Тебе нечем заняться, кроме как размышлять.

“I never did fool Ruth,” Sully told Toby Roebuck now. “She just happened to like me regardless.”
“That’s the way everybody likes you, Sully.”
“Well, it’s better than being disliked, I guess,” Sully said.

“Why would you want something you know’s bad for you?”
“Good question,” Sully admitted. “I always do, though.”

“Don’t tell your mother” was such a phrase. He hadn’t used it in about thirty years. But the words were right there, anxious to be spoken again after so long, a holy incantation. It was the phrase he’d been born to speak, having learned the words from his own father, who, if they hadn’t already existed, would have had to invent them.

She once again studied Mrs. Gruber, who’d gone back to her menu and was examining that document as if it contained a plot.

Мастер на все руки из жопы.

— Ты ещё там?
— Не знаю.
— Не знаешь, там ты или нет?
— Тебя разве не бывает такого ощущения?
— Какого?
— Как будто тебя нет.

Чтобы достучаться до Салли, его надо огреть лопатой по голове.

Vera had often awakened feeling frisky, an enthusiasm that seldom survived breakfast. Sully attributed this to her Puritan upbringing. Some girls you just had to catch before they woke up enough to remember who they were.