Parametri
- 335pagine
- 12 ore di lettura
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In a jazz bar on the last night of 1937, watching a quartet because she couldn't afford to see the whole ensemble, there were certain things Katey Kontent knew: the location of every old church in Manhattan how to sneak into the cinema how to type eighty words a minute, five thousand an hour, and nine million a year and that if you can still lose yourself in a Dickens novel then everything is going to be fine. By the end of the year she'd learned: how to live like a redhead and insist upon the very best; that riches can turn to rags in the trip of a heartbeat, chance encounters can be fated, and the word 'yes' can be a poison. That's how quickly New York City comes about, like a weathervane, or the head of a cobra. Time tells which.
Acquisto del libro
Rules of Civility, Amor Towels, David Nicholls
- Lingua
- Pubblicato
- 2011
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- (In brossura),
- Condizioni del libro
- In ottime condizioni
- Prezzo
- 3,99 €
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- Titolo
- Rules of Civility
- Lingua
- Inglese
- Autori
- Amor Towels, David Nicholls
- Editore
- Hodder & Stoughton
- Pubblicato
- 2011
- Formato
- In brossura
- Pagine
- 335
- ISBN10
- 1444708856
- ISBN13
- 9781444708851
- Serie
- Tag
- Narrativa, Tema stórico, Prosa storica, Narrativa contemporanea, Amicizia, Relazioni, Letteratura Americana, Romanzi sociali, Storie, Crescita, New York, Anni '30 del 20° secolo
- Descrizione
- In a jazz bar on the last night of 1937, watching a quartet because she couldn't afford to see the whole ensemble, there were certain things Katey Kontent knew: the location of every old church in Manhattan how to sneak into the cinema how to type eighty words a minute, five thousand an hour, and nine million a year and that if you can still lose yourself in a Dickens novel then everything is going to be fine. By the end of the year she'd learned: how to live like a redhead and insist upon the very best; that riches can turn to rags in the trip of a heartbeat, chance encounters can be fated, and the word 'yes' can be a poison. That's how quickly New York City comes about, like a weathervane, or the head of a cobra. Time tells which.