David Hallman

Add friend
Sign in to Goodreads to learn more about David.

http://snowsoversapporo.com/blog
https://www.goodreads.com/snowsoversapporo

The Name of the Wind
Rate this book
Clear rating

progress: 
 
  (52%)
Feb 18, 2019 01:42AM

 
LPIC-2 Cert Guide:
Rate this book
Clear rating

progress: 
 
  (page 295 of 864)
Feb 14, 2019 04:14AM

 
Digging Up Mother...
Rate this book
Clear rating

progress: 
 
  (page 201 of 288)
Jan 16, 2019 04:13AM

 
See all 7 books that David is reading…

David’s Recent Updates

The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss
Rate this book
Clear rating
David Hallman is on page 295 of 864 of LPIC-2 Cert Guide
LPIC-2 Cert Guide by William J. Rothwell
Rate this book
Clear rating
David Hallman rated a book liked it
Ten Arguments For Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now by Jaron Lanier
Rate this book
Clear rating
David Hallman is now following Patrick's reviews
922495
David Hallman is currently reading
The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss
Rate this book
Clear rating
David Hallman rated a book did not like it
THE TURN OF THE SCREW Henry James by Henry James
Rate this book
Clear rating
David Hallman is currently reading
THE TURN OF THE SCREW Henry James by Henry James
Rate this book
Clear rating
David Hallman is currently reading
Ten Arguments For Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now by Jaron Lanier
Rate this book
Clear rating
David Hallman rated a book really liked it
All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque
Rate this book
Clear rating
David Hallman rated a book really liked it
Joy of Zentangle by Suzanne McNeill
Rate this book
Clear rating
More of David's books…
Charles Bukowski
“Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink.”
Charles Bukowski

David Mitchell
“Gulls wheel through spokes of sunlight over gracious roofs and dowdy thatch, snatching entrails at the marketplace and escaping over cloistered gardens, spike topped walls and treble-bolted doors. Gulls alight on whitewashed gables, creaking pagodas and dung-ripe stables; circle over towers and cavernous bells and over hidden squares where urns of urine sit by covered wells, watched by mule-drivers, mules and wolf-snouted dogs, ignored by hunch-backed makers of clogs; gather speed up the stoned-in Nakashima River and fly beneath the arches of its bridges, glimpsed form kitchen doors, watched by farmers walking high, stony ridges. Gulls fly through clouds of steam from laundries' vats; over kites unthreading corpses of cats; over scholars glimpsing truth in fragile patterns; over bath-house adulterers, heartbroken slatterns; fishwives dismembering lobsters and crabs; their husbands gutting mackerel on slabs; woodcutters' sons sharpening axes; candle-makers, rolling waxes; flint-eyed officials milking taxes; etiolated lacquerers; mottle-skinned dyers; imprecise soothsayers; unblinking liars; weavers of mats; cutters of rushes; ink-lipped calligraphers dipping brushes; booksellers ruined by unsold books; ladies-in-waiting; tasters; dressers; filching page-boys; runny-nosed cooks; sunless attic nooks where seamstresses prick calloused fingers; limping malingerers; swineherds; swindlers; lip-chewed debtors rich in excuses; heard-it-all creditors tightening nooses; prisoners haunted by happier lives and ageing rakes by other men's wives; skeletal tutors goaded to fits; firemen-turned-looters when occasion permits; tongue-tied witnesses; purchased judges; mothers-in-law nurturing briars and grudges; apothecaries grinding powders with mortars; palanquins carrying not-yet-wed daughters; silent nuns; nine-year-old whores; the once-were-beautiful gnawed by sores; statues of Jizo anointed with posies; syphilitics sneezing through rotted-off noses; potters; barbers; hawkers of oil; tanners; cutlers; carters of night-soil; gate-keepers; bee-keepers; blacksmiths and drapers; torturers; wet-nurses; perjurers; cut-purses; the newborn; the growing; the strong-willed and pliant; the ailing; the dying; the weak and defiant; over the roof of a painter withdrawn first from the world, then his family, and down into a masterpiece that has, in the end, withdrawn from its creator; and around again, where their flight began, over the balcony of the Room of Last Chrysanthemum, where a puddle from last night's rain is evaporating; a puddle in which Magistrate Shiroyama observes the blurred reflections of gulls wheeling through spokes of sunlight. This world, he thinks, contains just one masterpiece, and that is itself.”
David Mitchell, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet

171569 Overdue Podcast — 789 members — last activity Feb 01, 2019 03:55PM
A group for reading along and discussing the books featured on the Overdue Podcast. Overdue is a podcast about the books you've been meaning to read. ...more
Yyib badge
Trevor ...
274 books | 239 friends

Shari
993 books | 97 friends

Khara K...
434 books | 195 friends

Daniel C.
30 books | 27 friends

Eugene ...
185 books | 532 friends

Hiroki ...
2 books | 16 friends

Carrie ...
225 books | 26 friends

Swami Yame
1 book | 19 friends

More friends…

Quizzes and Trivia

questions answered:
50 (0.0%)

correct:
27 (54.0%)

skipped:
0 (0.0%)

365044 out of 2923444

streak:
2

best streak:
6

questions added:
0



Polls voted on by David

Lists liked by David