The Mad Codger finished reading Old Man's War by John Scalzi
Old Man's War by John Scalzi
John Scalzi channels Robert Heinlein (including a wry sense of humor) in a novel about a future Earth engaged in …
Un Dorian Gray sin pasado, ni patria ni bandera.
I'm just a guy who likes to go on adventures, literary or otherwise. I mostly read fantasy, sci-fi, and/or litrpg.
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46% complete! The Mad Codger has read 6 of 13 books.
John Scalzi channels Robert Heinlein (including a wry sense of humor) in a novel about a future Earth engaged in …
An orphan’s life is harsh—and often short—in the mysterious island city of Camorr. But young Locke Lamora dodges death and …
My name is Kvothe.
I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. …
… [E]veryone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.
— The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss, Patrick Rothfuss (Page 690)
I liked it. It wasn't a profound read, but it was warm and cozy. A little bit like of the X-Men were little kids and a government worker comes to check on them and falls in love with everything he didn't know he didn't know.
Warm and cozy.
"There was no treasure after all! It was a lie to get you here for your party!" "Oh. I see. So the real treasure was the friendships we made along the way?" "You guys are the worst," Lucy muttered. "The literal worst."
— The House in the Cerulean Sea by T. J. Klune (Page 330)
I am but paper. Brittle and thin. I am held up to the sun, and it shines through me. I get written on, and I can never be used again. These scratches are a history. There a story. They tell things for others to read, but they only see the words and not what the words are written upon. I am but paper, and though there are many like me, none are exactly the same. I am parched parchment. I have lines. I have holes. Get me wet, and I melt. Light me on fire, and I burn. Take me in hardened hands, and I crumple. I tear. I am but paper. Brittle and thin.
— The House in the Cerulean Sea by T. J. Klune (Page 133)