Bookmarker is a personal project by @dellsystem to help with retaining reading material. Source on GitHub.

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3 years, 2 months ago

the World Bank said privatize

"It's interesting. It is interesting," Gitanas agreed, still hugging himself tensely. "Brodsky said, 'Fresh fish always smells, frozen smells only when it thaws.' So, and after the big thaw, when all the little fish came out of the freezer, we were passionate about this and that. I was part of it. …

—p.127 The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen
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3 years, 2 months ago

it was nearly impossible not to make money

[...] Chip had reason to be sensitive. Since D—— College had fired him, the market capitalization of publicly traded U. S. companies had increased by thirty-five percent. In these same twenty-two months, Chip had liquidated a retirement fund, sold a good car, worked half-time at an eightieth-percen…

—p.118 by Jonathan Franzen
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3 years, 2 months ago

the desserts were a foot tall

"The desserts were a foot tall!" Enid said, her instincts having told her that Denise didn't care about pyramids of shrimp. "It was elegant elegant. Have you ever seen anything like that?"

"I'm sure it was very nice," Denise said.

"The Dribletts really do things super-deluxe. I'd never seen a…

—p.113 by Jonathan Franzen
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3 years, 2 months ago

he turned away from their reproachful spines

It was pathetically obvious that he'd believed his books would fetch him hundreds of dollars. He turned away from their reproachful spines, remembering how each of them had called out in a bookstore with a promise of a radical critique of late-capitalist society, and how happy he'd been to take the…

—p.106 by Jonathan Franzen
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3 years, 2 months ago

the longest sustained economic boom in American history

Each day that Chip spent grooming the corpse of a dramatically dead monologue was a day in which his rent and food and entertainment expenses were paid for, in large part, with his little sister's money. And yet as long as the money lasted, his pain was not acute. One day led to another. He rarely …

—p.105 by Jonathan Franzen