I'm not going to apologize for the way I've led my life.
I'm not going to apologize for the way I've led my life.
But she wished she had had the guts to go up to him and say hello. Or possibly break his legs, she wasn't sure which.
Zalachenko...you're just an ordinary asshole who hates women.
Lie rather still because this is the first time I've used this equipment.
I'm unhappy. I don't want to fall in love with you. It'll hurt far too much when it's over
Dear Government... I'm going to have a serious talk with you if I ever find anyone to talk to.
Armageddon was yesterday, today we have a serious problem.
Martin was dafter than a syphilitic polecat - where do I get these metaphors from?
It was troubling that one of the few people she trusted was a man she spent so much time avoiding
Don't ever fight with Lisbeth Salander. Her attitude towards the rest of the world is that if someone threatens her with a gun, she'll get a bigger gun.
As a girl, she was a legal prey, especially if she was dressed in a worn black leather jacket and had pierced eyebrows, tattoos, and zero social status.
Mikael had rarely managed to surprise Berger. This time she was silent for nearly ten seconds.
Only a woman who had killed a man in battle was allowed to give up her virginity.
From a purely physical standpoint she didn't have a chance, but her attitude was that death was better than capitulation.
Cortez looked like someone newly in love, the way only twenty-four-year-olds can look.
Much stronger boys in her class soon learned that it could be quite unpleasant to fight with that skinny girl. Unlike other girls in the class, she never backed down, and she would not for a second hesitate to use her fists or any weapon at hand to protect herself. She went around with the attitude that she would rather be beaten to death than take any shit.
Salander assessed the situation and saw that it was anything but under control. Her brain was working at high speed. Click, click, click.
His attitude had always been that if a woman clearly indicated that she did not want anything more to do with him, he would go on his way. Not respecting such a message would in his eyes, show a lack of respect for her.
He comes off a little like Practical Pig in The Three Little Pigs.
Normally seven minutes of another person's company was enough to give her a headache so she set things up to live as a recluse. She was perfectly content as long as people left her in peace. Unfortunately society was not very smart or understanding.
Salander leaned back against the pillow and followed the conversation with a smile. She wondered why she, who had such difficulty talking about herself with people of flesh and blood, could blithely reveal her most intimate secrets to a bunch of completely unknown freaks on the Internet.
I believe that everyone has it in them to kill another person. In desperation, or hatred, or at least to defend themselves.
Her absence had felt like torture--almost a form of personal punishment. He had nobody to discuss his feelings with, and for the first time he realised with appalling clarity what a destructive hold she had over him.
Plague might be a social incompetent, but he was unquestionably a genius.
A vingança é uma força poderosa
Salander was afraid of no-one and nothing. She realized that she lacked the necessary imagination - and that was evidence enough that there was something wrong with her brain.
I have a truly marvellous demonstration of this proposition which this margin is too narrow to contain.
Her voice was as rough as sandpaper. As long as Blomkvist lived, he would never forget her face as she went on the attack. Her teeth were bared like a beast of prey. Her eyes were glittering, black as coal. She moved with the lightning speed of a tarantula and seemed totally focus on her prey as she swung the club again, striking Martin in the ribs.
She had put on make-up in a colour scheme that indicated she might be colourblind.
And I guess that in some way I'm falling for you because you are who you are. It's easy to sleep with you because there's no bullshit and you make me feel safe. But this all started because I gave in to a crazy impulse. It doesn't happen very often, and I hadn't planned it.
She wondered what she thought of herself, and came to the realization that she felt mostly indifference towards her entire life.
It proved once again the theory that no security system is a match for a stupid employee.
He's pulling the load of an ox and walking on eggshells.
She's married. I'm more a friend and occasional lover.
And yet he kept sticking to her life like gum on the sole of her shoe, either on the Net or in real life. On the Net was OK. There he was no more than electrons and words. In real life, standing on her doorstep, he was still fucking attractive. And he knew her secrets just as she knew all of his.
The whole organization seemed to be in free fall, indulging in a collective fantasy in which experienced colleagues refused to admit that their every movement, every decision that was made and implemented, only led them one step closer to the abyss.
It was completely impossible to box with her. She had only one style, which we called Terminator Mode. She would try to nail her opponent, and it didn't matter if it was just a warm-up of friendly sparring.
I call them Salander's Principles. One of them is that a bastard is always a bastard, and if I can hurt a bastard by digging shit about him, then he deserves it.
Taking away a person's control of her own life - meaning her bank account - is one of the greatest infringements a democracy can impose, especially when it applies to young people. It is an infringement even if the intent may be perceived as benign and socially valid.
As the situation developed, the futility of attempting suicide in the middle of a hospital became apparent.
This is so much money that it scares the shit out of me. I don't know how to handle it. I don't know the purpose of the company besides making more money. What's all the money going to be used for?
Men could be as big as a house and made of granite, but they all had balls in the same place.
I can be a regular bitch. Just try me.
The job of the financial journalist was to examine the sharks who created interest crises and speculated away the savings of small investors, to scrutinize company boards with the same merciless zeal.
Been there, done that, got the T-shirt.
What an excellent tool the internet is for freaks.
Mimi was massaging Salander's back and neck. She had been kneading intently for 20 minutes while Salander mainly enjoyed herself and uttered an occasional groan of pleasure. A massage from Mimi was a fantastic experience, and she felt like a kitten who just wanted to purr and wave its paws around.
I'm aware of what you've done for me, and I'm not ungrateful. I appreciate that you actually showed yourself to be greater than your prejudices and have given me a chance here. But I don't want you for my lover, and you're not my father.
The media have the ability to attract the craziest people to call in perfectly absurd tips. Every newsroom in the world gets updates from UFOlogists, graphologists, scientologists, paranoiacs, and every sort of conspiracy theorist.
But if you want to win, you're going to have to fight.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories