«Заводной апельсин» kitabından alıntılar, sayfa 34

Восемнадцать - это совсем не мало. В восемнадцать лет у Вольфганга Амадеуса уже написаны были концерты, симфонии, оперы, оратории и всякий прочий kal... хотя нет, не kal, а божественная музыка.

Наступит завтра, расцветут цветуечки, еще раз провернется гадкая вонючая земля, опять взойдет луна и звезды, а ваш старый друг Алекс отправится искать себе пару и всякий прочий кал. Все-таки сволочной этот мир, грязный, подлый и вонючий, блин. Так что попрощайтесь со своим юным другом.

А всем остальным в этой истории сотворим салют, сыграв им на губах самую красноречивую в мире музыку: пыр-дыр-дыр-дыр. И пусть они целуют меня в яму. Но ты, о мой сочувственный читатель, вспоминай иногда коротышку Алекса, каким ты его запомнил.

Аминь. И всякий прочий кал.

перед вами номер 6655321, а вовсе не Алекс, ваш юный друг

- ну что же теперь, а?

Amen. And all that cal.

ultra-violence

You were not put on this earth just to get in touch with God.

The four of us were dressed in the height of fashion, which in those days was a pair of black very tight tights with the old jelly mould, as we called it, fitting on the crotch underneath the tights, this being to protect and also a sort of a design you could viddy clear enough in a certain light, so that I had one in the shape of a spider, Pete had a rooker (a hand, that is), Georgie had a very fancy one of a flower, and poor old Dim had a very hound-and-horny one of a clown's litso (face, that is). Dim not ever having much of an idea of things and being, beyond all shadow of a doubting thomas, the dimmest of we four. Then we wore waisty jackets without lapels but with these very big built-up shoulders ('pletchoes' we called them) which were a kind of a mockery of having real shoulders like that. Then, my brothers, we had these off-white cravats which looked like whipped-up kartoffel or spud with a sort of a design made on it with a fork. We wore our hair not too long and we had flip horrorshow boots for kicking. "What's it going to be then, eh?" There were three devotchkas sitting at the counter all together, but there were four of us malchicks and it was usually like one for all and all for one. These sharps were dressed in the heighth of fashion too, with purple and green and orange wigs on their gullivers, each one not costing less than three or four weeks of those sharps' wages, I should reckon, and make-up to match (rainbows round the glazzies, that is, and the rot painted very wide). Then they had long black very straight dresses, and on the groody part of them they had little badges of like silver with different malchicks' names on them – Joe and Mike and suchlike. These were supposed to be the names of the different malchicks they'd spatted with before they were fourteen.

В то воскресное утро свищ читал из книги про tshelovekov, которые слушали Slovo и не кинулись тут же очертя голову исполнять его, - будто бы они подобны тому, кто строил свой дом на песке, а тут как раз дождь хлесь-хлесь, гром бабах! - и дом развалился. Однако я подумал, что это только очень темный vek будет строить свой дом на песке, а кроме того, еще и все его соседи, приятели должны быть полными подонками, если не подскажут ему, какой он темный, раз затевает такое строительство.

“...badness is of the self, the one, the you or me on our oddy knockies, and that self is made by old Bog or God and is his great pride and radosty. But the not-self cannot have the bad, meaning they of the government and the judges and the schools cannot allow the bad because they cannot allow the self. And is not our modern history, my brothers, the story of brave malenky selves fighting these big machines?”

It may not be nice to be good, little 6655321. It may be horrible to be good.