“I hardly understand some of myself – and I live here. Even if I explained to you, it would be a fraction o the truth. And that fraction of the truth would be seen as a lie by Haddi down at the filling station, for instance. Even if you spoke to every single person – and spent twenty years doing it – you’d never get more that a tiny glimpse of what it’s like to live in one of those villages. How people think. The relationships within the community. The ancient bonds that link people. And keep them apart. I’ve lived here all my life, and there’s still so much I don’t understand. But this is my home. Even thouh your friends may suddenly turn into your worst enemies. And people keep their secrets, to grave and beyond”.
От “Outrage” на Арналдур Индридасон. Ревю на книгата очаквйте след няколко дни.
LYUTSKANOV 