The tabletop between them was littered with phone books, pencils, three-by-five index cards boxed and loose, road maps, cigarette ashes, a transistor radio, roach clips, coffee cups, and an Olivetti Lettera 22, into which Doc, mumbling, "Just start a ticket on this," inserted a sheet of paper which appeared to have been used repeatedly for some strange compulsive origami.--Page 15, Inherent Vice, Thomas Pynchon
(The latest in an ongoing series of sightings of the word origami in a novel read by me.)
1 comment:
sigh I did shave my list of books to try down to include The Crying of Lot 49... but I am now getting VERY lost by Ada, or Ardor which I bought on sale
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