0 Kommentare
0 Geteilt
44 Ansichten
0 Bewertungen
Verzeichnis
Discover new ideas, create new connections and make new friends
-
Bitte loggen Sie sich ein, um liken, teilen und zu kommentieren!
-
The Formula in the MindThe compound had a name——or at least, it had a name in the 17th-century manuscript, which called it "aqua vitae restauratrix," the water of life that restores. In William Hart's laboratory, it had a molecular formula that he had determined through mass spectrometry and NMR and every other analytical tool the department possessed, and that formula was C23H28N2O6, which looked innocent enough on...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 45 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The rain fell on Blackwood Hall the way it always had in autumn—heavy, insistent, as though the sky itself were grieving.Edward Ashworth stood in the family crypt beneath the hall, the iron crown heavy on his brow. It was meant to sit on a velvet cushion in the chapel, this symbol of the Crown Command, the highest military honour the Kingdom could bestow. Instead it sat on his head, too large, pressing down until his neck ached. The crypt smelled of damp stone and old bones—his ancestors, all of them, staring up...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 45 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
202605271459 txtThe fog that morning tasted of copper and old river mud. Adrian Cross woke with his face pressed against something cold and wet, and the first thing he noticed was not the cold or the wet but the fact that he was breathing when he should not have been breathing at all. The pajamas were wrong. Black fabric, scorched at the chest with three perfect holes that led nowhere—no wound, no blood, just...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 38 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Crow RoomACT I Marcus Wayne was an architect, which means he was a man who was paid to make other people's problems into buildings, and he was good at it, which means he was good at taking the chaos of human need and imposing geometry on it, because geometry is honest in a way that human need is not, and Marcus preferred the honesty of lines to the dishonesty of faces. He lived in an apartment in...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 37 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Rust Belt RemedyRay McAllister woke up the way he woke up every day: with a mouth that tasted like someone had lit a fire in it and a leg that ached in a place that didn't have a name. He lay on the cot in the back room of the house that was falling apart the way houses fall apart in towns that have stopped growing. The house was in a small valley outside Youngstown, Ohio, where the last coal mine had closed...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 50 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Asylum of Lost FearsI first met Arthur Windsor in the autumn of 1888, when he was brought to Bedlam under the care of his family physician. He was twenty-four years of age, a graduate of Cambridge with honors in classical literature, and the last scion of a noble house that had seen better centuries. What distinguished him from the other unfortunate souls committed to our institution was not his madness, but...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 16 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Black QuillRain in New York doesn't wash things clean. It just makes the grime slicker. I sat at my desk in the basement apartment on Mulberry Street, watching water trace crooked paths down the window that looked out onto an alley that didn't deserve a name. The typewriter sat before me like a loaded gun on a wooden table. Cheap bourbon in a chipped glass to my right. The kind of whiskey that tastes like...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 60 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Language of MorningACT I Isaiah Carter arrived in Harlem from the Delta with a voice and nothing else, and the nothing else was important because it meant that he had to earn everything, and the earning was the point, because in 1925, for a black man in America, the earning was the only thing that was real, and the voice was the tool with which he earned, and the voice was not a metaphor, it was a physical thing,...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 69 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
-
The Starlight AlgorithmI did not set out to decode the architecture of human terror. I was, by training and temperament, a mathematician. The fear matrix emerged not from any desire to understand fear but from an obsession with patterns—patterns in prime number distributions, in the orbital mechanics of binary stars, in the way certain sequences of notes could make an entire concert hall weep. Fear, I discovered, was...0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 23 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen
English
Arabic
French
Spanish
Portuguese
Turkish
Dutch
Italiano
Russian
Romaian
Portuguese (Brazil)
Greek