Author of quotes: Stig Larsson. Page 2

In a normal situation, no solution is a hundred percent right or wrong.

Now Lisbeth was surprised that she was alive, but she did surprisingly little: in fact, she didn't care. If death is the black emptiness from which she had just emerged, there is nothing wrong in it. Much of a difference is not felt.

She usually dressed casually and seemingly tasteless - not trying to follow trends, but rather seeking to emphasize their individuality, as did Michael. Such a strong look Lisbeth Salander defending their personal territory. Michael himself always took the studs on her leather jacket as a protective mechanism similar to the needles of a hedgehog. She gave the environment a signal - don't try to pet me, will get hurt.

No compromises.

... she was fond of some mystery, but guessed it, immediately lost interest in her.

The tattoo was beautiful and professionally done and looked like a work of art.
After some time Lisbeth turned her head.
- Satisfied?
- Very nice. But it must have hurt like hell.
"Yes," she admitted. - It was painful.

Studying last night the story of the state security Service, Michael learned that the basis of any spyware is the misinformation.

The doctor looked at the shaved, tortured and already bandaged head, Lisbeth Salander and suddenly felt a surge of tenderness, which is often felt to operated them patients. According to the Newspapers, Lisbeth Salander was the murderer of several people and suffered from mental illness, but in his eyes she looked more like a wounded Sparrow.

He never gets anything. She would never admit that he awakened in her a feeling, never give him the satisfaction! She canceled the document and blankly stared at a blank screen. But he didn't deserve total silence on her part. He, like the steadfast tin soldier, faithfully remained in her corner of the ring. She created a new document and wrote just one line:
"Thank you for what you were my friend."

Casting a critical eye bare walls, she thought she had to buy posters or paintings or something like that. Normal people are supposed to hung on the walls such things. Would be nice and a pot of flowers.

He turned her into a little dot on the horizon, a little annoying detail of the surrounding world. In life there were other things that worried her far more. But she suddenly thought how nice it would be to approach him and speak. And maybe break his bones. What she wanted more, she didn't know.

... she mentally reminded herself that she decided never again to anyone too much not to get attached, otherwise for someone it might end a grudge.

- ... Forget the Armani suits and sports cars! The average gang is composed of two or three people, half of them Russian or Baltic States, half - Swedish. Portrait of a leader: he is forty years old, he sits in a t-shirt, drinks beer and picks his bellybutton. He received no education and in some respects can be considered a socially inferior person, all his life he had some problems.
- Very romantic!
For a woman it looks from the standpoint of the stone age. He often fights and gets drunk and give a face to those who say the word across it. Order in the gang rests on the fists, and subordinates are often afraid of him.

She kicked him out of their lives as effectively as if erased file from your computer, without going into any explanation.