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by Gregory Maguire
p.106 "Jesus Buddha Krishna Christ." --Mart
p.254 "I feel, I feel, I feel...
I feel like the morning star"
p.185 She pulled his head to her side as if it were a bottle whose stubborn lid she was trying to loosen.
p.190 So they fell silent and listened to the story of God's love affair with Himself, giving Himself more and more elaborate presents and seeing that it was good. Mart thought the story showed God to be lacking in a certain amount of native intelligence. If he couldn't see the grand finale--the creation of man and woman--was less than good, was in fact disastrous--"And God looked at what He saw and realized He had made a serious mistake"--then He probably deserved the turning away from him that the Jews and Gentiles persisted in doing throughout the millennia. A child eventually gets a sour taste in the mouth when the failings of the parents become evident."
p.203-204 Mart winked. It went like a thunderclap across Sorb's thoughts. Mart's lashes lowered with colossal intention, shielding acre by acre the vast taut shimmering dome of storm-gray iris, crashing and meshing with the windscreen of the lower lashes, and then coming to an interminable midpoint of lockout (when the sun and stars and moon and any other heavenly bodies up there had fallen due to lack of human adoration and human longing, for when the sky has been forgotten and orbits lose their elastic strength and the whole mesmorama slips its gears) but like the first wave in the first ocean, the top lashes stirred and lifted and the globe of power reasserted itself, the streaks and trails of dawn dust in the revealed iris shocking him, the screws and grommets of the muscles at either end of the eye's bulge wrinkling clockwise and back again, and finally Sorb was naked as a fish before the eye of a whale, about to be eaten, digested, and eliminated without the consciousness of the whale so much as flinching.
NAMES: Nazira, Afshar, Mbulu, Vavilys, Sorb, Mart, Ella, Mazerius