Snarling an oath from an Icelandic saga, I reclaimed my place at the head of the queue. “Oy!” yelled a punk rocker, with studs in his cranium. “There’s a fackin’ queue!”Never apologize, advises Lloyd George....
—David Mitchell
There wasn’t a human being for several kilometers around, not a news-stand, not a shop, not a café, not a school. Not a cat, not a skinhead. Nothing.
—Jean-Philippe Toussaint
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