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Malcolm had an acquaintance in the City of Oxford police, a friend from his boyhood—a
Lol why this much description
Malcolm himself sat quite still, but he knew where everything was, and how heavy the table was likely to be, and which leg of Morris’s was injured, and he was balanced partly on the chair but partly on his feet, ready to spring.
Blerrrrrrg
“Simon Talbot.”
So thats whos fucking with delamare and maison juste
and the condescending half smile she couldn’t conceal when he spoke of things she’d once been eager to hear about,
he was going to find it, wherever it was, and take it home to her.
want you to go there yourself as soon as possible. You know the place, you speak the language, I think?” Malcolm said, “Yes.”
Maybe the unrest didn’t originate in Central Asia at all, but further west. Nearer Europe.”
“Instauration?” said Glenys Godwin. “I’ve forgotten what that means, if I ever knew it.” “It means restoration, or renewal.”
Mal knows allllll
After his death, the office of Pope was never filled again, and the authority that used to go with the title was diverted into many different courses,
some eager for conflict, some uneasy at the thought of it; some tempted like hounds by the gamy tang of heresy hunting, others reluctant to leave the peace of their monasteries or colleges for what was bound to be discord and anger and danger.
Not a monolith
“We’re there now,” he said. “More or less. There en’t no frontier nor customs post, nothing like that. One minute you’re out, the next minute you’re in.”
Not black and white
“So how do you know?” “You got a feeling for it. If you’re gyptian, it’s like coming home. If you en’t gyptian, you feel uncomfortable, nervous, you feel that all them boggarts and horrors is out there in the water, watching you.
Lol narnia logic
The warm, comfortable old cabin, the clean galley, the steam, the smell of the cooked potatoes—they felt like a bulwark against the danger above; but she knew they were nothing of the sort, and that a bomb well aimed would kill her and Brabandt and sink the Maid of Portugal in a matter of moments.
Symbo versus facft
The marsh lights seemed to be keeping pace with the boat, and then Lyra realized that the zeppelin overhead had moved a little in their direction, as if to see what they were.
The uncanmu is what saves her
a sickly fear of things that were outside, just beyond the reach of reason, inhabiting the dark.
aware of a powerful contradiction that almost tore her mind in two. What she wanted to do would involve this secret commonwealth of Brabandt’s, and yet she told herself it was nonsense, superstition, nothing but meaningless fancy.
Pan, Pan, Pan, Lyra thought, I need you now, you little bastard, you traitor.
What would pan do tho?
She tried to think of herself as a light-herd, and the absent Pan as a light-dog,
Is that perception or wishful thinking? I feel like imagination woukd be taking the wisps properties and extrapolating
was anger, it was desire, it was visceral.
Then, in an explosion of fire and blood and white feathers, the heron flew straight into the port engine of the zeppelin.
Noooo birb vioence
They’ll pull ’em down under the water and finish ’em off. Them potaters done yet?”
Yes murde makes me hungries
Food was the last thing she wanted just then, but when the hash was cooking she found that, after all, it was a shame to waste it, and it did smell good;
scooping up a forkful and dropping it over the side. “For the will o’ the wykeses,” he said. She did the same with hers,
It was deep and resonant, the voice of a singer, perhaps.
Blerrrrg
It wasn’t surprising to know the man was a scholar, because of the intelligence in his face, but he had the air of someone who knew his way around the real world. “Yeah,”
Best of both worlds
He moves easy for a big man, he thought.
Bleurrrrgh
Her dæmon was a mouse with pretty silver fur. He had been hiding on her shoulder, out of sight of Delamare’s owl dæmon, who, sensing their nervousness, had not looked at him once.
A beautiful woman, apparently. She married an Englishman called Courtney, Coulson, something like that,
Lol wrong
“You’re not fat enough to be in the way. Get along with you.”
Lol
“Young Orlando Faa,” he said. “He never come to the north with us, because he had to stay in case John never come back.
Retcon! He didnt exist in that book
“But young Malcolm, now.
Omg THIS AINT ABOUT HIM
Lyra wanted to ask him about that; but she shrank from it, as if it would give too much away. She felt uncertain about so much.
?
He’d been to Siberia, to the place the witches go and done what they did.
had to go to the desert of Karamakan and go into a building there because I might find that dæmon again and…I don’t know why.
I also wpuld like the plot to go there
because you can’t go in without a dæmon and…”
Thats ass backwatds. You cant go in with a daemlon
She stood up wearily, thinking that she might go below and close her eyes; but before she could move,
The plot arrived to save her from agency
She was curious to see his handwriting, and glad to find that it was graceful, strong, and legible.
Bleurchhhh
you know through the alethiometer, and maybe from other experiences as well, that there are more ways than one, more than two, of seeing things and perceiving their meanings.
The Malcolm she was getting to know now wasn’t pompous in the least.
Looll no
This was like talking into a void.
That is a letter yos
There’s fair-haired witches with Scandinavian-looking eyes and ones with black hair and different-shaped eyes.
Lol an editor struck almond shaped
When you were a little gal, you could’ve spun out a yarn like that for hours on end, and had everyone around listening and half believing every word.”
He told me there were truth tellers, and they needed to know what the truth was, so as to tell it. And there were liars, and they needed to know what the truth was, so they could change it or avoid it. And there were bullshitters, who didn’t care about the truth at all. They weren’t interested. What they spoke wasn’t the truth and it wasn’t lies; it was bullshit. All they were interested in was their own performance.
“Leave it to young Malcolm. He’ll find ways of doing that.”
Blerrrrrgh
They’re modest in their clothing, and they have the bearing of panthers. You could do that. You do it already, only you don’t know it.”
Ew
She felt contented, because she’d made a decision. She was in charge again.
Ok
“And we never…It never seemed to be…All we ever did was kiss. Again and again, as if we’d never stop. As if we’d never have to stop. And that was enough. If we’d been older, I don’t know, then it wouldn’t have been enough. But for us then, it was.”
Lol i guess that answers that
“But you got to let him go sometime, Lyra.” “D’you think so?” “Yes, I do. Serafina taught me that.”
:(
But it wasn’t really Will, she knew; it was a memory. All the same, she thought, it was the best thing she had. Could she really ever let it go?
is the secret commonwealth only in Brytain, or all over the world?”
Lolllll how dum can u get
