By J. D. Salinger
The writer writes: FRANNY got here out within the New Yorker in 1955, and was once rapidly undefined, in 1957 via ZOOEY. either tales are early, serious entries in a story sequence I'm doing a few kin of settlers in twentieth-century manhattan, the Glasses. it's a long term venture, patently an ambiguous one, and there's a real-enough risk, i assume that ultimately I'll hamper, probably disappear completely, in my very own equipment, locutions, and mannerisms. mostly, even though, I'm very hopeful. i like engaged on those Glass tales, I've been anticipating them so much of my existence, and that i imagine i've got particularly respectable, monomaniacal plans to complete them with due care and all-available skill.
Just switched over the epub on the following to a .mobi
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Additional info for Franny and Zooey
I suddenly heard beside me the voice of a gentleman in a dark blue coat, well dressed and of an imposing air. He was too late. "I'm too late. Ah, what a pity! " "Ah, what a pity! " "Let's step out," I whispered to him, my heart skipping a beat. We went out to the stairway "I'll let you have it for ten roubles," I said, feeling a chill in my spine. "Ten roubles! " He stared wide-eyed at me; I was well dressed, in no way resembled a Jew or a retailer. "Merciful heavens, it's a trashy old album, who needs it?
Her expression was kind, perhaps, but with a wrinkle. She could not have been especially brilliant intellectually, at least not in a higher sense, but one could see cunning in her eyes. No more than nineteen years old. In short, nothing remarkable. We'd have called her a "pillow" in high school. ) By the way, everything I've been describing so far, with such apparently unnecessary detail, all leads to the future and will be needed there. It will all echo in its own place: I've been unable to avoid it; and if it's boring, I beg you not to read it.
In trifles, in certain social manners, one can do God knows what with me, and I've always cursed this trait in myself. Out of some stinking goodnaturedness, I have sometimes been ready to yes even some society fop, seduced solely by his courtesy, or to get into an argument with a fool, which is most unpardonable. All from lack of self-control and from having grown up in a corner. You go away angry and swearing that tomorrow it won't be repeated, but tomorrow the same thing happens again. That's why I've sometimes been taken almost for a sixteen-year-old.
Franny and Zooey by J. D. Salinger