The Shipping News

Stared intently into his eyes like an optometrist seeking a flaw.

But he couldn’t have been twelve. I never heard he was twelve. If he drowned when he was twelve he couldn’t have been my grandfather.” “Ah, you don’t know Newfoundlanders.

You been on the old roller coaster. You had the full-course dinner.

He glanced in the rearview mirror. Warren’s yellow eyes met his. Quoyle winked at the dog. To cheer her up.

So I says, not knowing nothing about it, hardly able to write a sentence—I only got to Tom’s Dog’ in school—but I made up my mind that if they could start a glove factory with no leather or nobody that knew how to make ‘em, I could start a newspaper

Almost half the population works for the government and the other half is worked on.

Scowling like Beethoven.

You may think that the equation is ‘boat and water.’ It’s not. It’s ‘money and boat.’ The water is not really necessary. That’s why you see so many boats in backyards.

Billy knew his way by a rhyme pulled from the old days when poor men sailed by memory, without charts, compass or lights.

“Champagne! That’s what I enjoy,” said Tert Card. “With a ripe peach floating in it.” “Go on. That’s something you read. There’s never been a ripe peach in Newfoundland.”

maybe we’ll pick up some pizzas and a movie to watch. How’s that, Beety? Stalk of the Lust Beast, that’s the kind of movie you like isn’t it?” “No! Get out of it. Why don’t you bring back a comedy? That Australian one you got before was decent enough.” He wondered if they’d made the Australian lesbian vampire murders into a movie yet.

Quoyle nodded, put his hand to his chin. Man with Hangover Listens to Boat Builder Project Variables.

“Einstein couldn’t understand it. They’ve made a fucking cockadoodle mess out of it, those twits in Ottawa who don’t know a lumpfish from their own arse.” Jack at his medium range of temper.

You got to watch the son of a bitch printer. Why I’m taking you down there. If a mistake can be made, he’ll make it.

But ‘ow far does that get ‘er?” He opened the door again. “Not far from Herold, I guess.” said Quoyle, who answered rhetorical questions.

“Mountie flashes his light, finally has to shout out the window, Tuli over! Pull over!’ So the great transport knitter looks at the Mountie, shakes his head a bit and says, ‘Why no sir, ‘tis a cardigan.’”

“Dad says you must come by this noon. He wants to show you something.” But said she didn’t know what. Some kind of men’s business. For Archie was an expert at dividing the affairs of life into men’s business and women’s business.