Résultats lu par "Becky Brabham" dans Toutes les catégories

A man moves to the forest to be left alone. The forest turns out to be fully staffed. Twenty-five years ago Boris Kriger drove north out of Toronto on a nice day, kept going until he got tired, and bought a house on a hill with six and a half acres of impassable bush. He had been in Toronto three days. He was looking for silence.

Number-one New York Times best-selling author Joyce Meyer teaches listeners how to create change in their lives and truly receive God's blessings. Includes powerful Scriptures covering over 50 topics, such as patience, loneliness, and wisdom.

For nearly eighty years George Orwell has been read as a prophet, which is a comfortable way of reading him, because prophecies are always about somebody else. This book reads him instead as an experiment that has now run its full course. The results are in, and they are worse than the prophecy.

A Romance Hidden in Time follows historian Emily Carter as she uncovers a bundle of WWII-era love letters hidden beneath the floorboards of an old house. The letters—written by Private James Hamilton to Clara Bennett—reveal a tender, determined love shaped by distance, fear, hope, and the quiet courage of ordinary people living through extraordinary times.

A boy is taken from the world he was born into and delivered to strangers. He learns their language better than his own, submits to their law, is fed and taught and even loved. He becomes the most gifted creature in the household. And then, at the end, he is told to leave — because whatever else he is, he is not one of them, and never was. He goes back to his own kind and discovers that he does not fit there either.

THE WATER TABLE is a quiet disaster novel about what happens when a town’s most invisible system fails. When a regional power outage disables a rural Colorado town’s water treatment plant, hydrological engineer Carmen Silva calculates the unthinkable: the municipal water supply will be gone in less than two days. No violence. No explosions. Just arithmetic. As officials hesitate and residents cling to routine, Carmen must choose whether to respect authority —or act before it’s too late.

Her heart has lost hope. While his seeks a place to call home. Maddie Palmer longs for a place that stands only as a memorial in dust and ashes. Her father has arranged to bring her on a cattle drive, serving as the cook. Not thrilled about this prospect, she knows better than to decline her father's orders. That's before she arrives.

Richard Rorty told the twentieth century something it did not want to hear: that there is no final vocabulary, no last word, no floor beneath our descriptions of the world. He called the person who understands this an ironist, and he argued that such a person could still care about cruelty, still stand with the humiliated, still build a decent society — not on a foundation, because there is none, but on a refusal. His critics replied that he had talked himself out of the right to object to anything.

In the winter of 1437, on a ship crawling home from Constantinople, a German churchman was struck by an idea so strange that he spent the rest of his life defending it: the highest form of knowledge is knowing, with precision, what you cannot know. His name was Nicholas of Cusa, and he was, by turns, a boatman's son, a lawyer, a cardinal, a mathematician, a failed reformer, an accused heretic, and quite possibly the most modern mind of the fifteenth century. Five hundred years before relativity, he argued that the universe has no center and that all motion is relative.

One Thursday in June of 1904, a middle-aged advertising canvasser named Leopold Bloom walked around Dublin. He bought a kidney for breakfast, fed the cat, attended a funeral, ate a cheese sandwich, dodged a man he did not wish to meet, and came home in the small hours to a wife who had not, that particular afternoon, been entirely faithful. Almost nothing happened. James Joyce spent seven years and seven hundred pages on it, and called the result his damned monster-novel. Why would anyone do that?

Seventy years ago, Simone de Beauvoir wrote that one is not born a woman but becomes one. It was meant as a liberation. It became a prophecy whose second half no one had read aloud. We have spent three generations dismantling the cage of the eternal feminine, only to discover that freedom, when it finally arrives, does not feel like the morning after a revolution. It feels like standing alone in a very large room with no instructions on the wall. This book reads Beauvoir as she deserves to be read: not as a banner but as a skeptic, a witness so honest she indicted even the women she defended.

Somewhere in the world there is a poet whom millions of people know by heart, quote at weddings and funerals, teach to their children before the children can read, and treat as a kind of shared inner weather. He is, by general agreement, the greatest writer his language has produced. And almost no one outside that language has read him. For the English-speaking reader, Alexander Pushkin occupies roughly the place that Lord Byron occupies for a Russian: a famous name, a respectful nod, and a strange blank where the actual experience of the poetry ought to be.

For two thousand years, faith has carried a quarrel inside it that no council ever settled and no creed ever named outright: the war between the body and the soul. Somewhere along the way, the flesh became the enemy. Desire became danger. The bed, the womb, the smell of bread, the warmth of a hand on a sleeping child’s back — all of it was filed under suspicion, something to be disciplined, confessed, and overcome on the way to God.

He saw a woman made of light three times in his life, once in a London reading room and once in the Egyptian desert, and he spent the rest of his days trying to explain her to people who had not. Vladimir Solovyov was the strangest and most generous mind that nineteenth-century Russia produced: a philosopher who befriended Dostoevsky, begged a tsar to spare his father's assassins, gave away his money until he had none, laughed a laugh that frightened strangers, and devoted an enormous intellect to a single impossible task. He wanted to put the world back together.

Peter Griffin, the cartoon patriarch of Family Guy, is in a theater and says what no one else in the theater dares say: what the hell is this! The audience is frozen. The actors are frozen. He is the only living person in the room. And—strangely—he is closer to what Anton Chekhov actually wanted than any of the reverent strangers around him. This book is about a writer who quietly invented something nobody had named: a literature that works the way real life works. Without resolution. Without verdict. Without the lies of plot.

While staking out a cheating husband, Kate can't help but to indulge the cravings from her newest pregnancy. Little does she know the owner of the bakery has her eyes on Jim, Kate's beloved husband. Things turn deadly as Kate's cravings take over. It's up to Kate to keep her Family Life on track while solving another deadly whodunit!

Girl time is hard to come by for new moms. So when Kate's best friend, Paula, invites her to Spa Day, Kate jumps at the chance for break from diaper duty. But when a body is recovered from one of the saunas, it may prove that the guest was Pampered to Death!

Sleep deprivation, diaper blowouts, and breastfeeding mishaps are status quo for new mom Kate Connolly. But when she decides to turn private investigator in order to work from home, her To-Do List expands exponentially....

Laura Millington is the daughter of a prominent railroad tycoon, but that luxury comes at a price. Her father’s intentions are to use her as a pawn, steal her choices, and press her into a mold she can’t seem to fit. When her curious nature and desire for justice finds her caught up in the middle of a train run gone wrong, can she stand for the truth even if it places her in opposition to her powerful father?

Sadie Rose Perkins finds herself in dire straits after her father, the town banker, absconded with everyone’s money. What’s more, her mother’s failing mental stability becomes a trial she is not certain she can overcome. When she faces legal troubles amidst the townsfolk who shun her for actions not her own, is there anywhere she can turn?