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Captured Dreams Book 2 May McGoldrick
Dimension of Dreams Jeffrey Lord
Dreamsongs Volume II George R. R. Martin
coyote dreams murphy ce
Dolphin Dreams Jules Jones
Celeste Bradley Scoundrel In My Dreams
Coyote Dreams C. E. Murphy
Cottam F.G Klatwa Magdaleny
Carson McCullers Reflections in a Golden Eye (v5
Desiree A Cox [Lust, Desire a Twisted by Desire [MF] (epub) i

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.There was only one way it could have been stopped: by filling in the excavations as quickly as possible so that there was nothing left to complete.Not one doubt clouded their minds; the bricklayers believed in the vertical and the horizontal and also in mortar.And they believed firmly that everything the mind creates (even safety pins, even rosin) ought to exist in the world.No one doubted that in a city there should be streets and so also water carts to sprinkle the streets on hot days when they get dusty.And trams and trucks that would drive day and night from one suburb to another and back again.That it was necessary to create chauffeurs, mechanics, drivers and ticket collectors, nurses and police officers.In order to summon this whole throng to life it was enough to sew denim overalls, white aprons with stiff caps and uniforms of gray woolen cloth.But machines were required to produce the yarn and to stitch the clothes and also needles, tailors’ shears and so on.The world had barely appeared yet already everything was needed, and immediately too.Necessary things and the tools essential in their manufacture, without distinction, preferably at the same time.And raw materials: steel, coal, kerosene, paper and ink, not forgetting the yellow oil paint for painting the walls in waiting rooms.Such a great accumulation of urgent needs engendered frenetic haste, tension and uncertainty.For what ought to come first, the lathe or the screw for it, the cast iron or the great furnace, the egg or the hen? The world had only just emerged from its primordial chaos when it found itself at once faced with a colossal task fit for the hands of giants, a task as vast as the world itself and laborious as the threading of a needle; a job whose boundlessness swallowed without a trace the first spadefuls of earth removed from where the foundations of future factories were to be laid.Ebonite telephones were produced, into which people had to shout at the top of their lungs, covering one ear with a hand; and cardboard folders tied with ribbons; great black typewriters; indelible pencils; and many other things.There appeared massive inkstands made of thick glass, wooden blotters lined with blotting paper that bore navy blue stains, mounts for pen nibs and the nibs themselves.The furniture smelled of fresh polish.The dark red of signs blossomed on the walls, proclaiming the advent of times of granite and sandstone on slabs that weighed two tons apiece: the beginning of the era of immense blocks of gray marble and all other durable building materials, grand in nature, as if they had been created for the decoration of monumental façades and interiors.The core of the city however was a round billion of red bricks, more real than anything else at all.Each of them had passed through many hands and all disappeared beneath the plaster and the sandstone facing.Coarse fragments remained which children would play with in the courtyards for a long time to come.In those happy times all future days seemed altogether fresh and tidily arranged, like young leaves that have not yet emerged from the bud.Every boy would become a pilot and every little girl a schoolteacher.And in the school cloakrooms leather flying caps hung in anticipation, while on every scrap of concrete there appeared classrooms crookedly outlined in white chalk.Everything was possible.The world looked orderly, the foundations were deep, the walls thick, the pipes brand new.At the thought of “the world” what came to mind was above all that which can be touched: walls and pipes, loose sand, soft clay, cold water, rough fragments of red brick, lime dust.And that which can only be observed from afar, but which always returns to its place at the proper time of the day and year: the sun and the stars in the sky, the flag fluttering in the breeze.And also that which is always there and about which one never thinks: the air in one’s lungs, the earth underfoot.It was trodden confidently, in certainty that it truly existed.The growth of a city in many respects resembles the growth of a tree.Two intersecting streets laid out in the beginning sprout ever more numerous cross-streets, which in time send out their own and so on without end.Successive intersections arise; soft surfaces are paved over; a network of water pipes expands, hidden beneath the ground.A tree grows through the vitality of the seed and the juices drawn from the earth but the shape and density of the crown depend on the person who trims the branches with pruning shears.A city too grows through power and faith.But its layout quite evidently depends on the way the foundations are set down.Thus in analyzing the arrangement of the streets it is possible to discern the will and the beliefs that have left their stamp on it.The arrangement of the streets in turn was devised in such a way as to thwart chance occurrences and to avert convoluted thoughts.Since life is from a certain perspective only a replication of urban design, order in the city compels order in the mind.The creators of the plan, whoever they were, achieved their purpose though they did not trust in architecture and scorned the tricks of city planning.No detail was overlooked in their decisions; they presented their demands in raised voices and took complications in their stride, hammering their fists upon the table.They did not have to adapt their intentions to fit the rules of an art foreign to them.The defiant simplicity of their treatments indicates that in fact they were proud of this [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]