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/lit/ - Literature

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5037648 No.5037648[DELETED]  [Reply] [Original]

Rewrite a passage of literature from memory (no cheating). Others try to guess the book.

It doesn't have to be exactly the same, but should capture the spirit. Try to make it a noteworthy passage.

I'll go first.

>The more she drank, the more she shat. The more she shat, the thirstier she grew. She shat brown water. Shit shit shit. She crawled out of the ditch. Dragons.

>> No.5037662

A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now. The alarm sounds, people go through the motions of escape, but it is too late. As people pour forth into the bomb shelters and emerge from the streets, it is not a disappearance but rather a progressive knotting-into.

>> No.5037668

A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now. The evacuation proceeds, but it's all theatre. No light anywhere...(something) as old as an iron girder...that would let the light of day through. But it's night.


I really only remember first lines.

>> No.5037679

And what about the thousands of men that never came home? Did they spend their dying moments thinking about liberty and freedom and the safety of the stars and stripes forever? No they died crying like infants crying and longing for just one last breath one last glimpse of life.

>> No.5037682

>>5037662
>>5037668
whoa

>> No.5037685
File: 259 KB, 1160x1804, ASupposedlyGoodBookIllNeverReadAgain.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]
5037685

>>5037668
>>5037662
>>5037648

All three are from Infinite Jest by contemporary postmodern genius, David Foster Wallace.

>> No.5037686

And what about the thousands of men that never came home? Did they spend their dying moments thinking about liberty and freedom and the safety of the stars and stripes forever? No light anywhere... (something as old as an iron girder...that would let the light of day through. But it's night.

>> No.5037704

>>5037648
That's from one of the Song of Ice and Fire books by George RR Martin.

>> No.5037705

His origins are become remote as his destiny and not in all the world's turning will there be terrains so wild and barbarous to try whether the stuff of creation may be shaped to man's will or whether his own heart is not another type of clay.

>> No.5037712

It's all now you see. Yesterday won't be over until tomorrow and tomorrow began 1,000 years ago. Somewhere, for every southern boy, there's a moment when it's still July of 1863, the brigades positioned in the woods

>> No.5037714

His origins are become remote as his destiny and not in all the world's turning will there be light anywhere... (something as old as an iron girder...that would let the light of day through. But it's night.

>> No.5037721

>>5037714
Correction:
"the girder is now all you see as the light of day but"

>> No.5037722

It was about Baker when the drugs began to take hold. Giant bats swept down from the sky at our red Cadillac convertible. My attorney fended them off with a flyswatter.

>> No.5037725

Oh, what evil looks had I from Old and Young
For instead of the Cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung

>> No.5037733

Easy mode:
"I am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, the wisdom of prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. And this may be the only immortality we may share..."

>> No.5037734

It seemed like he didn't hear me, so I asked again where the ducks in Central Park went during the winter. Well, he swung his head way the hell around and almost shouted at me, saying, "how the hell should I know, mac?" Jesus, he was getting really angry about it, so I fell silent.

>> No.5037736

>>5037733
Eh, pretty close

>> No.5037743

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness
Starving, hysterical, naked
Dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
Looking for an angry fix.
Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night.
Human seraphim angels with big cocks that spurt tons of lovely jizz all over pubic bearded people.
Tons of cocks, endless balls, and then some more cocks.
Penises all over the place, boatloads of sensitive penises.

>> No.5037744

>>5037734
The Catcher in the Rye.

>> No.5037747

>>5037743
Howl

>> No.5037751

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish
Son of man, you cannot tell, or guess
For you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats
And the dead tree gives no shelter,
The cricket no reflet,
The dry stone no sound of water
Only, there is shadow under this red rock (come in under the shadow of this red rock)
And I will show you something different
From either your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you
I will show you fear in a handful of dust

Frisch weht der Wind
Der Heimat zu
Mein irisch Kind
Wo weilest du?

>> No.5037757
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5037757

>>5037743

>> No.5037758

>>5037751
the cricket no relief*

goddamn it

>> No.5037855
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5037855

Sunset found her squatting in the grass, groaning. Every stool was looser than the one before, and smelled fouler. By the time the moon came up she was shitting brown water. The more she drank, the more she shat, but the more she shat, the thirstier she grew, and her thirst sent her crawling to the stream to suck up more water.

>> No.5038195

Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres, something something the aquitaine.

>> No.5038276

I am sitting in a room surrounded by heads and bodies.

>> No.5038733

>>5037668
An iron queen? Was that it?

>> No.5038889

>>5037722
Hunter S. Thompson's "Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas"

>> No.5038891

Love is a weird thing. Kinda like those unnoticeable gas like that kill entire families in their sleep.

>> No.5038895

>>5038195
De Bello Gallico

>> No.5038933

I went down the mine, and there were pretty much children, women and men working naked, fucking each other in the sweltering heat during breaks.

Heavily paraphrased, lets see if any you are bad enough dudes.

>> No.5038936
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5038936

Jesus wept

>> No.5038939

She exhaled, and the smoke from her nostrils was like a pair of tusks.

>> No.5038944

>>5038939
the hobbit

>> No.5038946

>>5038276
the giver

>> No.5038949

>>5038944

No!

>> No.5038954

>>5037648

I just realised that the farmer in American Gothic resembles Hunter Thompson.

>> No.5038955

It is a far, far better thing that I do now than I have ever done....

fuck

>> No.5038958

The hair spray can starting bouncing around the room. ______ came in (the name would give it away) to see what the noise was and ducked down with her. The hair spray can came close to hitting the both of them, but it hit the mirror and then ran out of steam.

>> No.5039150

>>5038891
u wot m8

>> No.5039584

The TP's arc reached high above the court. Otis P Lord's arc was much less impressive on the Y axis. It was clear to Pemulis that he wasn't going to make it. Hal sat transfixed in marijuana thinking, feeling his jowls and wondering if he could feel his jowls. Pemulis' froze with his hands on his cheeks and his mouth rounded into a large "O." Lord crashed head first into the TP's monitor and stuck there, trouser legs drooping groundward to reveal: black socks. The TP's software blinking into the snowy sky: ERROR.

>> No.5039616

If Robert Jordan had learned two things about dealing with the people who lost 5-1 against The Netherlands. the first was to offer them women and the second not to fuck their cigarettes.

>> No.5040155

>>5037648
Dalton Ames. Dalton Ames. Dalton Ames. Time is robbed right under ny eyes.

>> No.5040174

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of a continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls: it tolls for thee.