JacksonP > JacksonP's Quotes

“It took me all day to get that car out. Well, it wasn’t a car. That’s just what I thought it might be when I spotted part of it jutting out from decades of forest undergrowth, and moss, inside a mound of blackberry bushes.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“I turned completely around to make sure of what I was seeing. I needn’t have worried about getting the vehicle out of the hole. It had done that by itself.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“I always thought fondly of Eleanor and was a little shy around her when I checked into the Boarding House. Her smile still warmed me, but now as a woman her smile also made me a little wobbly in the knees.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“That got to me. I wasn’t communicating with a computer. Inside this machine was a sophisticated, self-aware intelligence, and it wanted me to be its friend.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“Roughly translated into English I am Galactic Exploration and Research Intelligence number twenty-seven.” “The first letter of those words comes out G.E.R.I., so I’ll call you GERI if that’s okay.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“Eleanor, I bought the Simpson place because I’ve always wanted the forest on that land. I got more than I bargained for. Tuesday, I went out there to take a walk in the forest and I found something. That something has become as you say my ‘friend.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“What? Are there two of them?” she asked. “Are we being invaded?” I laughed, but it was an understandable question given what she had just learned. “No, there is only one GERI. It’s something else. On Wednesday, when I let GERI out of the barn, I started the process of cleaning out the house. I found a ton of money under the floor in old Simpson’s closet.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“Why are you not having me take you there?” GERI asked. “I could have had you there in twenty minutes.” “I appreciate the offer, GERI. I don’t know what I’m getting into. I don’t want to have to explain to someone how I got to South Carolina so fast. I need to have this trip well documented.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“In science fiction books characters always seem to have a weapon that can be set on stun. Do you have anything like that?” I asked. GERI laughed. He was getting better at it. “Yes, Tom, I have something like that.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“Tom, does this activity that we are undertaking qualify for the moniker cloak-and-dagger?” GERI asked. “I think it does, but I don’t share your enthusiasm for it. I’m the agent on the ground and potentially the one in the line-of-fire.” “Do not worry, Tom. I have got your six,” GERI said, and laughed.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“They are crystals, Mr. Williams,” Ferg said, “but unlike any other crystals on this planet. If I were to put a label on the spheres, each is a Dynamically Layered Organic Crystal Lattice. Something like this has been theorized, but it has remained in the theory stage because no one could imagine how to make them.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“I couldn’t make sense out of what I was seeing. There was a shiny metal arm about an inch thick with a joint in the middle and a knob on the end. The arm was knocking the knob against the window. The oddest thing was that the arm wasn’t connected to anything. It appeared to be floating by itself in midair!”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“He wasn’t being arrogant. It wasn’t self-confidence that a human would have because they had been successful in the past. GERI was simply certain he would be successful because he was what he was—a superlative intellect, perhaps the only one of his caliber.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“When I lamented the sale of the gold bars, GERI said it wasn’t a problem because there was a more than enough of the metal below the floor of the barn where I was sitting.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“I didn’t know what question to ask first. GERI’s announcement surprised me. My friend from outer space had become a property developer.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“Mr. Williams, in your short time boarding with us you’ve seen very little of my home,” Eleanor said. “I’d like you to see the rest of it, starting with my bedroom.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“You have just placed yourself in an untenable position, Mr. Mathews. You have made a threat that you cannot carry out. I’m not intimidated by your gun, so I won’t be going anywhere with you. I think you should re-read the book on successful information gathering techniques.”
― C.A. Knutsen, Tom and G.E.R.I.

“To reiterate: not all things need to be finished, and free reading is a prime example of this. Writing – or the composition of words which are intended to be read – just like painting, sculpting, or composing music, is a form of art. Typically, not all art is able to resonate with each and every viewer – or, in this case, reader. If we walk through a museum and see a boring painting, or listen to an album we don’t enjoy, we won’t keep staring at said painting, nor will we listen to the album. So, if we don’t like a book, if we aren’t learning from it, dreaming about it, enjoying its descriptions, pondering its messages, or whatever else may be redeeming about a specific book, why would we waste our time to “just finish it?” Sure, we may add another book to the list of books read, but is more always better?”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“Sanjit says his apartment, the same one in which he grew up, has been flooded many times by the midsummer torrents. For what has been for millennia a primarily agricultural society, rains simultaneously destroy, create, and preserve life in India, similar to the functions of the three premier Hindu gods, Shiva, Brahma, and Vishnu. Every time Kolkata gets pounded by a cyclone, or when the monsoon first erupts in June (although the recent warming of the Indian Ocean increasingly disturbs a once-consistent timeline), Sanjit never fails to send along a video, his house flooded – seemingly destroyed – but the smiles on his, Bajju’s, or other house-guest’s faces signify just the opposite, having been cooled and relieved of perpetual heat. Flooded, they remain preserved.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“Water is to India as blood is to the body, with the many rivers functioning as arteries – the Ganges being the aorta – and the monsoon timelessly arriving as a much-needed annual blood transfusion.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“As I sat dumbfounded, seemingly paralyzed in my corner, resorting to my old, reliable strategy of scribbling when unsure of how to respond to Sanjit, Sanjit appended his counsel with a dose of silence – one reminiscent to that of a few days prior. The students looked upward and downward, fans to notes to pens to toes, outward and inward, peers to souls, and of course, toward the direction of the perceived elephant in the room, Sanjit’s books. Simultaneously, Sanjit confidently and patiently searched among the students before finding my eyes; once connected, the lesson moved forward.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“Yet, the work was not complete. Next, citing Bond’s veranda and our subsequent construction of it as an example, Sanjit elaborated on the thought which he had previously teased, but not fully explained: that when a reader reads, the reader constructs a setting and world and is able to view themselves through this world. However, he also added that when we read, we are not only able to see our constructed world, but to evaluate our constructed world. This is how, Sanjit would argue, we influence and better ourselves, even if unintentionally; for by pausing and analyzing our constructions we may be able to identify our assumptions about people, places, or things. And it is in this way that books may be an expressed form of art, not just for the writer, but also for the reader.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“In contrast, the gratification and education received from Sanjit’s classes is slow burning, personal, and in a changing world allegedly becoming more attuned to and obsessed with requiring that money spent – especially on education – must yield tangible results, what many would view as a paradoxical dynamic nevertheless persists there, near Park Circus, Kolkata. No grades, no forced accountability, all voluntary learning.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“It is here where education is championed and gratefully pursued as the human right which many in our world classify it to be. For although regarded as a human right, many entitled to education often dismiss its equal standing to other rights of a similar plane: water, food, shelter. Without water, many perish; with education, many complain.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“We proceeded to make way across the mighty Hooghly River, a monstrous offshoot of the Ganges, where we contemplated for a moment, our thoughts seemingly caught in the roaring southward current; there we gazed, toward where the city transitions into mangrove jungle, and somewhere a bit further to the southwest where all the rivers split infinitely like capillaries, where those famous Bengal tigers trod among the sunderbans. Peering in that direction, Bajju gripped the vertical bars just above the horizontal pedestrian railing, breathing slowly and silently, knees locked, still, despite being on arguably the busiest and loudest bridge in the world.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“Of course, I couldn’t explain this vector calculus concept and so, slightly embarrassed in front of Rahul and the other Bengali students, I told Sanjit just that; he had cornered me, and honesty emerged as my only option. Simultaneous to my humiliating disclosure of the truth, Sanjit gradually inched toward where I was sitting. After hearing my reply, he slowly returned to his teacher stool and whiteboard, his back turned away from the class, the suspense building and his words impending, before turning around and breaking into speech, “Don’t trust your interior monologue. If you are asked something and you know it, then express or demonstrate it. Don’t just nod or say yes because then you are lying to yourself. Any ass can say yes, but not all asses can express it.” I modified my first impression: Sanjit was full of explicit aphorisms. Humbled, those words encouragingly rang between my ears for quite some time.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“Everyone is recharged for the second half, no bell, no forced learning, no principal’s office for tardiness or absenteeism; instead, a voluntary return to our collective pane of learning. Final conversations simmer down and the attention is refocused.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“Again, the exercise begins. For me, the American in me, the city of Detroit comes to mind. A house, once within the bustling city, now lies on the outskirts. Industry has come and gone, and the car manufacturers have relocated. I recall images of the rough lifestyles south of 8 Mile. The city’s borders have changed. Post-apocalyptic, long grasses sway with the wind. The house is melancholy and lonely. The owners: maybe there, maybe not.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“Despite the business and auto-rickshaws and bantering Bengalis just beyond his brown front door, Sanjit cultivates a distinct learning environment and energy, one created and galvanized above the tile floors, within the thin walls, below the imperative ceiling fans, and embraced by books.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School

“After Bajju delivered a few beaming salutations, we walked northward up the makeshift, winding path through protruding brush, not much but a few stones placed here and there for balance and leverage upon ascending or descending. Having advanced about hundred steps from the street below, a sharp left leads to Bajju’s property, which begins with his family’s miniature garden – at the time any signs of fertility were mangled by dried roots which flailed like wheat straw, but within the day Bajju’s children vehemently delivered blows with miniature hoes in preparation for transforming such a plot into a no-longer-neglected vegetable garden. A few steps through the produce, or preferably circumventing all of it by taking a few extra steps around the perimeter, leads to the sky-blue painted home. Twisting left, hundreds of miles of rolling hills and the occasional home peeps out, bound below by demarcated farming steppes. If you’re lucky on a clear day and twist to the right, the monstrous, perpetually snow-capped Chaukhamba mountain monopolizes the distance just fifteen miles toward the direction of Tibet in the north.”
― Colin Phelan, The Local School