Welcome to Bookmarker!

This is a personal project by @dellsystem. I built this to help me retain information from the books I'm reading.

Source code on GitHub (MIT license).

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You added a note
3 years, 1 month ago

as long as Martha was in the keep

The slowing of his blood made Danny dizzy, the relief of not being afraid and even more than that, knowing he’d been afraid of nothing. Not that Danny was safe—the worm was trying to get inside him, that was clear. He knew the signs. When you were vulnerable to the worm you had to take precautions,…

—p.149 The Keep by Jennifer Egan
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3 years, 1 month ago

this was how the worm got in advice/living

[...] Danny had a creepy feeling of watching himself: a gimping, head-injured guy with a right foot full of big white toes anyone could reach out and grab, stumbling through a rotten garden outside a castle full of strangers in a country he didn’t know the name of. A guy at the end of the line is w…

—p.147 by Jennifer Egan
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3 years, 1 month ago

are you sad to have nothing?

Benjy leaned closer. In his face Danny saw sympathy mixed in with a kind of cold curiosity you never saw in adults. They’d learned how to hide it.

Benjy: Are you sad to have nothing?

No, I’m not sad.

But he was. The sadness came on Danny suddenly and buried him. He saw himself: flat on his…

—p.126 by Jennifer Egan
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3 years, 1 month ago

now wait a minute, someone’s got to be saying inspo/metafiction

Now wait a minute, someone’s got to be saying. Three pages ago Danny had been awake almost ten minutes, and now you’re telling us it’s forty-five? Are you kidding me? I could repeat everything they said on those three pages in five minutes tops, which means Danny should be awake seventeen minutes m…

—p.124 by Jennifer Egan
You added a note
3 years, 1 month ago

maybe a box of hair is a radio

He smiles at me, and damned if his teeth aren’t the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen in a human head. We. We: it’s an offer, an invitation to believe in his nonsense. I watch Davis put his ear against his “radio” and nod with his eyes closed, and all of a sudden I think: How do I know it’s not real? Ok…

—p.99 by Jennifer Egan