法国大文学家巴尔扎克一生潦倒贫困。一天,他写作到深夜。一小偷光顾。巴尔扎克看到小偷到处乱翻,便对小偷说:“我白天都翻不到钱,你夜里难道难翻到钱吗?”[Have a neuropathy, I do not know where to get a handful of pistols, he is gone in a little black alley. When suddenly a young man, neuropathy apart from anything else its guns on the ground by pointing to his head. Asked one plus a few zero. Terrified young people, thought for a long time. Answer, equals two. Neuropathy of the killing he did not hesitate. And then get pulled in his arms, said a cold, you know too much ...有一个神经病,不知道从哪里弄来了一把手枪,他走在一条小黑胡同里。突然遇上一个年轻人,神经病二话不说将其按在地上用枪指着他的头。问道,一加一得几。年轻人吓坏了,沉思了很久。回答,等于二。神经病毫不犹豫的打死了他。然后把抢拽在怀里,冰冷的说了一句,你知道的太多了…[汉森站在开球点,用高尔夫球棒反复地比划着,一会儿看看上面,一会儿看看下面,一会儿看看远处,一会儿看看近处,不厌其烦地测量着出球距离、计算着风向风速和击球角度。 一同来的球友都有些不耐烦了,问道:“汉森,今天怎么瞄这么久?” “难得我老婆今天也来了,她现在正从俱乐部会所二层的阳台往下看我打球,所以我这一击必须得准!”汉森头也不抬,一本正经地说道,仍把大部分注意力集中在瞄准计算上。 “算了吧,老兄,我看无论你怎么瞄,都没法从这儿把她击中。”球友同情地说道。[ 详情
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