Inspirasi Kediri Bertutur

                                                        • That had been enough. And that night Tallon had died. Bond pulled himself up. He was going too fast, building up a case on the flimsiest evidence. Bartsch had killed Tallon and Bartsch was not the man who had heard the noise, the man who had left fingerprints on the chart, the man whose dossier Bond had put away in his leather case.
                                                          'Yes I would like champagne,' she said.

                                                                                                              • Hildegarde Sell, and had penned Hildegarde's theme song, "Darling, Je
                                                                                                                The doctor smiled. "Nobody tells me anything. Just as well. I haven't got the tune to listen to them. Well, thank you, matron. I must get along. Multiple crash at Halfway Tree. The ambulances'll be here any minute." He hurried away. The matron went about her business. The nurse, excited by all this high-level talk, went softly back into the green-shaded room, tidied the sheet over the naked right shoulder of her patient where the doctor had pulled it down, and went back to her chair at the end of the bed and her copy of Ebony.
                                                                                                                The kind soul promised, and we both of us kissed the keyhole with the greatest affection - I patted it with my hand, I recollect, as if it had been her honest face - and parted. From that night there grew up in my breast a feeling for Peggotty which I cannot very well define. She did not replace my mother; no one could do that; but she came into a vacancy in my heart, which closed upon her, and I felt towards her something I have never felt for any other human being. It was a sort of comical affection, too; and yet if she had died, I cannot think what I should have done, or how I should have acted out the tragedy it would have been to me.
                                                                                                                鈥業s not this a funny little glimpse of life?... I doubt myself that there is much use in Conferences, except that it is nice that some dear workers should meet and know each other. We had many very choice ones.鈥橖br> When at last the dull-witted armies of Russia and China with their irresistible war machines attempted to cross the belt, their personnel was mysteriously reduced to infantilism. Many accidentally killed themselves with their own machinery. The army became a stumbling, helpless mob. They were shepherded back into their own territory by Tibetan police. Many were then slaughtered by their Russian or Chinese compatriots as worthless goods. Some were preserved for observation, and after a few weeks they completely recovered. Fresh attempts at invasion met with the same fate. Respirators were of no avail, for the ultra-microscopic spores could pass through any filter, and nothing would poison them that was not also poisonous to human beings.


                                                                                                                Scaramanga's face suddenly pointed, like a retriever's, and the roving scrutiny held steady. Bond could not see what had caught his attention, but then a patch of the dappled shadow at the edge of the clearing moved and a large snake, beautifully diamonded in dark and pale brown, zigzagged purposefully across the black mud towards the man.
                                                                                                                These, it may be said, are reflections which I, being an old novelist, might make useful to myself for discontinuing my work, but can hardly be needed by those tyros of whom I have spoken. That they are applicable to myself I readily admit, but I also find that they apply to many beginners. Some of us who are old fail at last because we are old. It would be well that each of us should say to himself,
                                                                                                                "Work without hope draws nectar in a sieve,
                                                                                                                "I'd like to have a word with the Colonial Secretary, sir."
                                                                                                                ‘Your very very sad account of dear Otho received this morning makes one think that, even before this reaches you, the sufferer may have been called home! Oh what a blessing it is that it is indeed Home.... Dear Otho has had a sorely trying journey, wintry and wearisome indeed; but there is no shadow, never can be a shadow, on the Home to which he is bound. He will never have to leave it again, to learn the lesson of patience in pain. He will, through his Lord’s merits, be ready there to welcome the dear ones whom he is now leaving behind,—when they too may quit their school, and go to their Father in Heaven....

                                                                                                                                                                    • “Mighty fine!” he replied; “but, Julia, if my anxiety for you proceeds from my own attachment, and, I suppose I may presume[134] where Edmund does, you cannot be surprised that I should not wish to see you throw yourself away; but I believe,” he added, with a sneer, provoked at the evident scorn depicted on Julia’s countenance at the mention of his own attachment, “you are tolerably safe, as the gallant Captain Montgomery happens not to be at leisure to accept your ladyship’s proffered affections, being otherwise engaged.”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                          • The Rasta gave the whistle lanyard a long pull. When the shriek had died away, he simply said "Sheeit," kicked the furnace door open, and began shovelling coal.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                • He got back under cover and heard their boisterous voices and laughter only yards away as they came into the hut and pulled out their rakes and barrows and dispersed to their jobs, and for some time Bond could hear them calling to each other across the park. Then, from the direction of the castle, came the deep tolling of a bell, and the men fell silent. Bond glanced at the cheap Japanese wristwatch Tiger had provided. It was nine o'clock. Was this the beginning of the official working day? Probably. The Japanese usually get to their work half an hour early and leave half an hour late in order to gain face with their employer and show keenness and gratitude for their jobs. Later, Bond guessed, there would be an hour's luncheon break. Work would probably cease at six. So it would only be from six thirty on that he would have the grounds to himself. Meanwhile, he must listen and watch and find out more about the guards' routines, of which he had presumably witnessed the first - the smelling out and final dispatch of suicides who had changed their minds or turned faint-hearted during the night. Bond softly unzipped his container and took a bite at one of his three slabs of pemmican and a short draught from his water-bottle. God, for a cigarette!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      • But in the case of Tibet, forewarned was indeed forearmed. After a period of internal conflict an economically progressive, but culturally conservative, party was able to seize power and effect a revolution in the economic life of the country. The new rulers, the new advisers of the Grand Lama, wisely distinguished between the material achievements of modernism and its social and moral absurdities. They undertook to modernize their country materially and even to some extent mentally, while preserving the essentials of the native cultural life. In this they were but following in the footsteps of the Japanese, but with the tragic example of that upstart modern society ever before them. Moreover in the Tibetan culture there was something far deeper, more spiritual and more hardy than in the culture of Japan. The natural poverty of the country, too, had proved a blessing. Powerful neighbours regarded Tibet as not worth systematic exploitation or conquest; and the belated native attempt to develop the country without foreign aid could not produce, even if it had been intended to do so, anything like the flood of luxury and the insane lust for commercial power which had enervated the dominant class in Europe. Physically Tibetan resources were indeed negligible. Save for certain remaining deposits of gold, mostly in the eastern part of the country, there was little mineral wealth, and agriculture was hobbled by severe shortage of water. Even pasture was at first desperately meagre. Sheep and cattle, however, and particularly the hardy native yak, formed the mainstay of the population. The government undertook a great irrigation scheme; with the willing and even heroic co-operation of the people. Within a few decades, it was hoped, much of the country would be capable of intensive cultivation.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            • Dark babies should fondle, dark women should train,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  • He turned back and faced Bond across the desk.