Jonas Jonasson

He turned to take one last look at the Old People__ Home that _ until a few moments ago _ he had thought would be his last residence on Earth, and then he told himself that he could die some other time, in some other place.The hundred-year-old man set off in his pee-slippers (so called because men of an advanced age rarely pee further than their shoes), first through a park and then alongside an open field where a market was occasionally held in the otherwise quiet provincial town.

Life, here I come!' he said. And was immediately and fatally run over by a bus.

Well, now you can see how sensible it is not to start your day by guessing what might happen... After all, how long would I have had to go on guessing before I guessed this?

Things are what they are, and whatever will be, will be.

Go and nose out the next piece of shit... as one said in the trade. If nothing else was available, you could run an article on the latest miracle diet. That always worked.

Bucket had started his criminal career in Braas, not far from when Allan and his new friends now found themselves. There he had gotten together with some like-minded peers and started the motorcycle club called The Violence. Bucket was the leader; he decided which newsstand was to be robbed of cigarettes next. He was the one who has chosen the name- The Violence, in English, not swedish. And he was the one who unfortunately asked his girlfriend Isabella to sew the name of the motorcycle club onto ten newly stolen leather jackets. Isabella had never really learned to spell properly at school, not in Swedish, and certainly not in English.The result was that Isabella sewed The Violins on the jackets instead. As the rest of the club members had had similar academic success, nobody in the group noticed the mistake. So everyone was very surprised when one day a letter arrived for The Violins in Braas from the people in charge of the concert hall in Vaxjo. The letter suggested that, since the club obviously concerned itself with classical music, they might like to put in am appearance at a concert with the city__ prestigious chamber orchestra, Musica Viate.Bucket felt provoked; somebody was clearly making fun of him. One night he skipped the newsstand, and instead went into Vaxjo to throw a brick through the glass door of the concert hall. This was intended to teach the people responsible lesson in respect. It all went well, except that Bucket__ leather glove happened to follow the stone into the lobby. Since the alarm went off immediately, Bucket felt it would be unwise to try to retrieve the personal item in question.Losing the glove was not good. Bucket had traveled to Vaxjo by motorbike and one hand was extremely cold all the way home to Braas that night. Even worse was the fact that Bucket__ luckless girlfriend had written Bucket__ name and adress inside the glove, in case he lost it."For more quotes from the novel visit my blog: frommybooks.wordpress.com

Allan interrupted the two brothers by saying that he had been out and about in the world and if there was one thing he had learned it was that the very biggest and apparently most impossible conflicts on earth were based on the dialogue: __ou are stupid, no, it__ you who are stupid, no, it__ you who are stupid._ The solution, said Allan, was often to down a bottle of vodka together and then look ahead.

Revenge is like politics, one thing always leads to another until bad has become worse, and worse has become worst.

If you don't think you have enough problems, you should acquire a mammal in Sweden just hours before you're about to fly home to the other side of the world, and then insist that the animal must come along in your luggage.

Is my life, by any chance, about to take a new turn?

Allan Emmanuelle Karlsson closed his eyes and felt perfectly convinced that he would now pass away for ever. It had been exciting, the entire journey, but nothing lasts for ever, except possibly general stupidity.

Her heart broke. Because of sorrow. Because of guilt. Because of repressed dreams, visions and fantasies. Because almost nothing in her life had gone as she'd hoped.

The hundred-year-old man had never let himself be irritated by people, even when there was a good reason to be, and he was not annoyed by the uncouth manner of this youth.

He told himself that he could die some other time, in some other place.

His experience was that Justice was rarely as just as it ought to be. The others agreed.

Allan looked at the bus and then at the suitcase, then again at the bus and then again at the suitcase. It has wheels, he said to himself. And there's a strap to pull it by too. And then Allan surprised himself by making what - you have to admit - was decision to say 'yes' to life.p.12.