More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
A man confined to a few rooms becomes a meteorologist.
No twisting, lifting, cigarettes or sudden moves. Think of yourself as a broken cup.” “I do.”
As he followed Svetlana he became aware that she was putting more sway into her steps than was absolutely necessary. You’re stirring a cold pot, he thought. Thank you for trying.
He needed the key. For an investigator, that excused everything,
It’s like that old adage about a tree falling in the forest; if nobody hears it, was there a sound?” “What if it falls on you?”
You know, Arkady, if you wanted to be more involved in my life, you had your chance.” That, Arkady thought, would silence any man.
The Cathedral of Christ the Redeemer was a copy of a church demolished by Stalin to make room for a statue of Lenin pointing to the future, only the statue was never erected and the Soviet future never arrived.
Tourists were immobilized by their guidebooks
The church is a dead telephone; even though people know better, they pick it up and listen.
Of course, it swallows gas like a drunk, but a man who lets guilt ruin pleasure is the pincushion of fate.
Sometimes it was hard to say where crime ended and punishment began.
He felt like a fisherman who had hooked a creature far below the surface of the water with no idea of what he had caught.
Zhenya reacted as if Arkady had uttered the stupidest question ever formed by the mouth of man.
One in the morning was a territory as much as a time, and Victor Orlov and Arkady were long-term residents.
“So if you drop your house keys at the back door, do you search for them at the front door because the light is better?
“I thought so too. Things got complicated.” “That will be on your tombstone, ‘Things Got Complicated.’
“It’s like a badly organized orgy,”
in interrogations, as in comedy, timing was everything.
“This is the third time you’ve tried to kill me. A warning seems superfluous.”

