All this happened, more or less (the past is a foreign country; they do things differently there)
It was love at first sight. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife: Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. It was a pleasure to burn. Miss Brooke had that kind of beauty which seems to be thrown into relief by poor dress.
You don't know about me. If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap,whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else.
I wish either my father or my mother, or indeed both of them, as they were in duty both equally bound to it, had minded what they were about when they begot me. I was born twice: first, as a baby girl, on a remarkably smogless Detroit day in January of 1960; and then again, as a teenage boy, in an emergency room near Petoskey, Michigan, in August of 1974.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair. It was a queer, sultry summer. It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
A screaming comes across the sky.
Call me Ishmael.
Created: Aug 08, 2010Document Media