On October 3rd, 2022, I decided to revisit an old & abandoned weekly meme, “Teaser Tuesday”, and am happy to say that I have not missed a week of teasin’. Today I’m going to do a double Top Ten Tuesday: one on the ‘official’ theme, and one looking back at ten favorite teases from the last year.

First, this week’s actual tease:

Somewhere in that kid’s head it all seemed to be simmering into a stew: Conquerors. Swashbuckling. Civilization. Risk. Coding. Empire-building. The recipe for Mark Zuckerberg.

Facebook: The Inside Story. Steven levy.

“I’m not looking for a limo.” The man on the other side of the window smiled at me. He had nice teeth and a good suit, and a handgun small enough to be unobtrusive but more than large enough to do me a lot of damage.
“I think you’re gonna wanna take this ride, Mr. Valdez.”

The Dispatcher, John Scalzi. Read by Zachary Quinto.

“What I was doing was small potatoes in the general scheme of legally shaky endeavors, but the IRS liked going after the small potatoes. The small potatoes put up less of a fight when you mashed them.”

Murder by Other Means, John Scalzi. Read by Zachary Quinto.

Second, Top Ten Tuesday’s goals I still want to accomplish:
(1) Finish off Mount TBR. Frankly, the fact that I haven’t fallen off the wagon on this particular goal is a happy surprise to me. I’ve steadily plugged away at it and expect to hit my soft goal of 80 books from the pile (which will be the bulk of it) before year’s end.
(2) Make more progress on my second Classics Club reading list. As in, any. I’d wanted to finish this list off in three years early, but given my attentive focus on Mount TBR, that’s a nonstarter.
(3) Post some reviews for books I’ve read previously but never reviewed properly. This will not happen. I’d like it to happen, but it won’t.

And now, My Top Ten Favorite Teases from Oct 2022 – Oct 2023:

Very well, if you won’t let me tell you what Melbourne said I’ll put it in my own words: the time your friends need you is when they’re wrong, Jean Louise. They don’t need you when they’re right. (Go Set a Watchman)

I flung open the door on one [theatrical wagon], slammed it behind me, and leapt into the arms of a woman seated just inside.
“Well, make yourself at home, why don’t you?”
“Excuse me, ma’am, but I’m an innocent man running for his life.”
“Well, aren’t you unique? I’ve never met an innocent man.” (Armstrong, H.W. Crocker III)

“I guess the best way to tell the story of how I glued myself to the wall of my house, of how such a thing could even happen, is to tell it chronologically. Otherwise, I might appear stupid. But if I walk you through it, tiny misstep by tiny misstep, you will come to see that such a thing could happen to almost anybody, even a smart person. It began, as all great disasters do, with a plausible theory. It began with the simple thought, I can fix that.” (My Southern Journey, Rick Bragg)

“You know any more rich people?”
“No,” I said. I was beginning to feel depressed.
“That’s where you’re dead wrong,” he said quietly. “You know two rich people. You and me. We’re both rich, right now. Richer than them Willies-off-the-pickle-boat. Richer than any of them cotton people. Stinkin’, filthy rich you are, and so am I.”
“What’s rich, then?”
“Rich,” the Old Man said dreamily, “is not baying after what you can’t have. Rich is having the time to do what you want to do. Rich is a little whisky to drink and some food to eat and a roof over your head and a fish pole and a boat and a gun and a dollar for a box of shells. Rich is not owing any money to anybody, and not spending what you haven’t got.” (The Old Man’s Boy Grows Older, Robert Ruark)

However, with his strength every romantic hero carries a weakness; he nurses a wound and aches with some tragic flaw. The way he treats his weakness distinguishes him from the villain. The villain is never a total monster. He is a hero gone wrong. He is a romantic hero who has given in to the dark side of the force. The villain has ceased to fight against evil—most importantly, he has ceased to fight against the evil within himself. He is a villain because he has no self-doubt. He has forgotten that he has a flaw; indeed, what should be his aching wound has become the defining characteristic of the villain. At some point he stopped fighting the darkness within and so became one with the darkness without. Because the villain refused to dominate his dark side, it has dominated him. (The Romance of Religion, Fr. Dwight Longenecker)

Behind us, the genuine German was becoming worried that the Polish restaurant would have no space for our party. ‘We have no reservation?’ he said. ‘There are twelve of us!’ ‘I shouldn’t worry,’ said the posh Englishman. ‘The Poles are used to being invaded.’ (The Unpersuadables: Adventures with the Enemies of Science, Will Storr)

But life after the White House felt like it was “moving in slow motion,” [Obama] confessed. When his literary agent told him that his publisher wanted to meet with him “right away” about his memoir, he suggested a time the next day. “Oh, no,” the agent replied. “It’s going to take two weeks to set it up.” In the White House, the stakes were incomprehensibly high and urgent. “I had to explain to him,” Obama said, “where I’m coming from, ‘right away’ means if we don’t do something in half an hour, somebody dies.” (Team of Five: The Presidents’ Club in the Age of Trump)

There is one drawback to not wearing a moustache, and that that if you don’t have one, you’ve got nothing to twirl when baffled. All you can do is stand with your lower jaw drooping like tired lily, looking a priceless ass, and that is what Stilton was doing now. His whole demeanour was that of an Assyrian who, having come down like a wolf on the fold, finds in residence not lambs but wild cats, than which, of course, nothing makes an Assyrian feel sillier. (Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit)

On the edge of the prairie, where the sun had gone down, the sky was turquoise blue, like a lake, with gold light throbbing in it. Higher up, in the utter clarity of the western slope, the evening star hung like a lamp suspended by silver chains — like the title page of old Latin texts, which is always appearing in new heavens, and waking new desires in men. (My Antonia, Will Cather)

Well, sometimes I’ll text a friend—just something like a rainbow emoji followed by a two-way arrow and a question mark. You know, to let them know I’m happy and hope they’re happy.” “And then you wait,” Delaney said. “Right!” Shireen said. “And while I’m waiting…” “You wonder if they hate you and are plotting against you and will spread lies about you and ruin your life and you’ll want to die?” Delaney said. She expected a laugh, but the faces of Shireen and Carlo had gone gray. “I wouldn’t use those words, exactly,” Shireen said, “but—” (The Every, Dave Eggers)