![Warm Bodies 温暖的尸体 [平装]](https://pic.windowsfront.com/19262190/rBEIC0_XEdoIAAAAAAA1Fzg7fwoAAAlwgIvOMcAADUv322.jpg)
具体描述
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一场末日浩劫后的未来，神秘的病毒毁灭了文明，受害者丧失过去的记忆，变身为吃活人的僵尸，幸存的人类建立起坚固的高墙堡垒，以防止饥饿的僵尸们，成群结队闯进来猎食…。然而，这种看似传统活尸片的背景设定，却因男主角R的出现而颠覆一切！R是个没有记忆、心跳的僵尸，却怀抱着许多梦想，他的内心世界充满惊奇与渴望。某日R正在猎食人类时，竟然煞到了一位温暖、灿烂的活生生女孩茱莉，R不但没吃掉她的脑袋，还决定救她一命，让她免于遭受R的僵尸同伴吞噬。 对原本形如槁木死灰的R而言，茱莉的出现，简直是苍灰阴郁中一抹奔放艳丽的色彩。于是一段紧张而又异常温柔的甜蜜关系就此展开。
R悄悄把茱莉带回他称为家的地方，即一座满布僵尸的机场，并让她躲在一架废弃的767波音客机上，里面有他到处搜集而来的“宝藏”，包括黑胶唱片、雪景水晶球、乐器等。接下来的几天，他们在这个隐匿处意外地共度了惬意的日子，在不知不觉之中，活泼的茱莉唤起R遗忘已久的人性情感，而她也开始了解到他不只是个慢动作、眼神呆滞的行尸走肉。
茱莉很困惑自己对于R的感情，于是带着复杂情绪返回人类城市。她父亲是无情的僵尸猎人，领导人类大军捍卫他们仅存的高墙家园。同时，害相思病的R开始产生前所未有的改变，他相信自己与茱莉的相知相惜能够拯救无论是生是死的人类，不过他出现在她家门口时，很快就掀起活人和僵尸（以及皮包骨）之间的全面性混战，而这也威胁到这一对奇迹恋人未来能否在一起的可贵机会。
这种事从没发生过，不但不合逻辑，也违背了规矩，不但改变了R，也改变他的僵尸同伴，甚至让死气沉沉的世界出现了生机。然而，在那阴森腐败的世界里，想要完成梦想，他们还需要一场革命……
内容简介
R is a young man with an existential crisis--he is a zombie. He shuffles through an America destroyed by war, social collapse, and the mindless hunger of his undead comrades, but he craves something more than blood and brains. He can speak just a few grunted syllables, but his inner life is deep, full of wonder and longing. He has no memories, noidentity, and no pulse, but he has dreams.After experiencing a teenage boy's memories while consuming his brain, R makes an unexpected choice that begins a tense, awkward, and stragely sweet relationship with the victim's human girlfriend. Julie is a blast of color in the otherwise dreary and gray landscape that surrounds R. His decision to protect her will transform not only R, but his fellow Dead, and perhaps their whole lifeless world.
Scary, funny, and surprisingly poignant, Warm Bodies is about being alive, being dead, and the blurry line in between.
《温暖的尸体》讲述了一个叫做“R”的僵尸和一个他杀死的人类的女友之间的浪漫关系，这段关系引发了连锁反应，不仅改变了他和他的僵尸伙伴，也改变了整个僵尸世界。
作者简介
Isaac Marion was born near Seattle in 1981 and has lived in and around that city ever since. Deciding to forgo college in favor of direct experience, he dived into writing while still in high school and self-published three terrible novels before finally hitting his stride with Warm Bodies, his first published work. He currently splits his time between writing in Seattle and hunting inspiration on cross-country RV trips. Visit IsaacMarion.com.精彩书评
“I never thought I could care so passionately for a zombie. Isaac Marion has created the most unexpected romantic lead I've ever encountered, and rewritten the entire concept of what it means to be a zombie in the process. This story stayed with me long after I was done reading it. I eagerly await the next book by Isaac Marion.”(Stephenie Meyer, #1 New York Times Bestselling author of the Twilight series)
“A mesmerising evolution of a classic contemporary myth.”
(Simon Pegg, New York Times bestselling author of Nerd Do Well)
“Warm Bodies is a terrific book—a compelling literary fantasy which is also a strange and affecting pop-culture parable.”
(Nick Harkaway, author of The Gone-Away World)
“Isaac Marion has a great new voice that hooks you from page one and accomplishes the impossible: it makes you care about young zombie love. Warm Bodies is a terrific read.”
(Josh Bazell, New York Times bestselling author of Beat the Reaper)
“Enormous fun.”
(Marie Claire (UK))
“Wryly playful, cinematic, and ultimately moving.”
(Time Out London)
“Has there been a more sympathetic monster since Frankenstein's?”
(The Financial Times)
“It’s got the boarded-up strongholds and mob mentality of Night of the Living Dead—but also romance. As the evil thing resists its evil nature, the book neuters zombies in the same way Stephanie Meyer did vampires.”
(Time Out NY)
“If you haven't caught on to Isaac Marion's writing yet, you're really missing out.”
(About.com)
“In elegant, evocative prose, Marion has fashioned the world’s most unlikely romance in a story that is by turns harrowing, poignant, and tender. At the last, the reader is reminded that we are all ultimately human, whether living or dead. Utterly charming.”
(Library Journal (starred review))
前言/序言
I AM DEAD, but it’s not so bad. I’ve learned to live with it. I’m sorry I can’t properly introduce myself, but I don’t have a name anymore. Hardly any of us do. We lose them like car keys, forget them like anniversaries. Mine might have started with an “R,” but that’s all I have now. It’s funny because back when I was alive, I was always forgetting other people’s names. My friend “M” says the irony of being a zombie is that everything is funny, but you can’t smile, because your lips have rotted off.None of us are particularly attractive, but death has been kinder to me than some. I’m still in the early stages of decay. Just the gray skin, the unpleasant smell, the dark circles under my eyes. I could almost pass for a Living man in need of a vacation. Before I became a zombie I must have been a businessman, a banker or broker or some young temp learning the ropes, because I’m wearing fairly nice clothes. Black slacks, gray shirt, red tie. M makes fun of me sometimes. He points at my tie and tries to laugh, a choked, gurgling rumble deep in his gut. His clothes are holey jeans and a plain white T-shirt. The shirt is looking pretty macabre by now. He should have picked a darker color.
We like to joke and speculate about our clothes, since these final fashion choices are the only indication of who we were before we became no one. Some are less obvious than mine: shorts and a sweater, skirt and a blouse. So we make random guesses.
You were a waitress. You were a student. Ring any bells?
It never does.
No one I know has any specific memories. Just a vague, vestigial knowledge of a world long gone. Faint impressions of past lives that linger like phantom limbs. We recognize civilization—buildings, cars, a general overview—but we have no personal role in it. No history. We are just here. We do what we do, time passes, and no one asks questions. But like I’ve said, it’s not so bad. We may appear mindless, but we aren’t. The rusty cogs of cogency still spin, just geared down and down till the outer motion is barely visible. We grunt and groan, we shrug and nod, and sometimes a few words slip out. It’s not that different from before.
But it does make me sad that we’ve forgotten our names. Out of everything, this seems to me the most tragic. I miss my own and I mourn for everyone else’s, because I’d like to love them, but I don’t know who they are.
There are hundreds of us living in an abandoned airport outside some large city. We don’t need shelter or warmth, obviously, but we like having the walls and roofs over our heads. Otherwise we’d just be wandering in an open field of dust somewhere, and that would be horrifying. To have nothing at all around us, nothing to touch or look at, no hard lines whatsoever, just us and the gaping maw of the sky. I imagine that’s what being full-dead is like. An emptiness vast and absolute.
I think we’ve been here a long time. I still have all my flesh, but there are elders who are little more than skeletons with clinging bits of muscle, dry as jerky. Somehow it still extends and contracts, and they keep moving. I have never seen any of us “die” of old age. Left alone with plenty of food, maybe we’d “live” forever, I don’t know. The future is as blurry to me as the past. I can’t seem to make myself care about anything to the right or left of the present, and the present isn’t exactly urgent. You might say death has relaxed me.
I am riding the escalators when M finds me. I ride the escalators several times a day, whenever they move. It’s become a ritual. The airport is derelict, but the power still flickers on sometimes, maybe flowing from emergency generators stuttering deep underground. Lights flash and screens blink, machines jolt into motion. I cherish these moments. The feeling of things coming to life. I stand on the steps and ascend like a soul into Heaven, that sugary dream of our childhoods, now a tasteless joke.
After maybe thirty repetitions, I rise to find M waiting for me at the top. He is hundreds of pounds of muscle and fat draped on a six-foot-five frame. Bearded, bald, bruised and rotten, his grisly visage slides into view as I crest the staircase summit. Is he the angel that greets me at the gates? His ragged mouth is oozing black drool.
He points in a vague direction and grunts, “City.”
I nod and follow him.
We are going out to find food. A hunting party forms around us as we shuffle toward town. It’s not hard to find recruits for these expeditions, even if no one is hungry. Focused thought is a rare occurrence here, and we all follow it when it manifests. Otherwise we’d just be standing around and groaning all day. We do a lot of standing around and groaning. Years pass this way. The flesh withers on our bones and we stand here, waiting for it to go. I often wonder how old I am.
The city where we do our hunting is conveniently close. We arrive around noon the next day and start looking for flesh. The new hunger is a strange feeling. We don’t feel it in our stomachs—some of us don’t even have those. We feel it everywhere equally, a sinking, sagging sensation, as if our cells are deflating. Last winter, when so many Living joined the Dead and our prey became scarce, I watched some of my friends become full-dead. The transition was undramatic. They just slowed down, then stopped, and after a while I realized they were corpses. It disquieted me at first, but it’s against etiquette to notice when one of us dies. I distracted myself with some groaning.
I think the world has mostly ended, because the cities we wander through are as rotten as we are. Buildings have collapsed. Rusted cars clog the streets. Most glass is shattered, and the wind drifting through the hollow high-rises moans like an animal left to die. I don’t know what happened. Disease? War? Social collapse? Or was it just us? The Dead replacing the Living? I guess it’s not so important. Once you’ve arrived at the end of the world, it hardly matters which route you took.
We start to smell the Living as we approach a dilapidated apartment building. The smell is not the musk of sweat and skin, it’s the effervescence of life energy, like the ionized tang of lightning and lavender. We don’t smell it in our noses. It hits us deeper inside, near our brains, like wasabi. We converge on the building and crash our way inside.
We find them huddled in a small studio unit with the windows boarded up. They are dressed worse than we are, wrapped in filthy tatters and rags, all of them badly in need of a shave. M will be saddled with a short blond beard for the rest of his Fleshy existence, but everyone else in our party is cleanshaven. It’s one of the perks of being dead, another thing we don’t have to worry about anymore. Beards, hair, toenails… no more fighting biology. Our wild bodies have finally been tamed.
Slow and clumsy but with unswerving commitment, we launch ourselves at the Living. Shotgun blasts fill the dusty air with gunpowder and gore. Black blood spatters the walls. The loss of an arm, a leg, a portion of torso, this is disregarded, shrugged off. A minor cosmetic issue. But some of us take shots to our brains, and we drop. Apparently there’s still something of value in that withered gray sponge because if we lose it, we are corpses. The zombies to my left and right hit the ground with moist thuds. But there are plenty of us. We are overwhelming. We set upon the Living, and we eat.
Eating is not a pleasant business. I chew off a man’s arm, and I hate it. I hate his screams, because I don’t like pain, I don’t like hurting people, but this is the world now. This is what we do. Of course if I don’t eat all of him, if I spare his brain, he’ll rise up and follow me back to the airport, and that might make me feel better. I’ll introduce him to everyone, and maybe we’ll stand around and groan for a while. It’s hard to say what “friends” are anymore, but that might be close. If I restrain myself, if I leave enough…
But I don’t. I can’t. As always I go straight for the good part, the part that makes my head light up like a picture tube. I eat the brain, and for about thirty seconds, I have memories. Flashes of parades, perfume, music… life. Then it fades, and I get up, and we all stumble out of the city, still cold and gray, but feeling a little better. Not “good,” exactly, not “happy,” certainly not “alive,” but… a little less dead. This is the best we can do.
I trail behind the group as the city disappears behind us. My steps plod a little heavier than the others’. When I pause at a rain-filled pothole to scrub gore off my face and clothes, M drops back and slaps a hand on my shoulder. He knows my distaste for some of our routines. He knows I’m a little more sensitive than most. Sometimes he teases me, twirls my messy black hair into pigtails and says, “Girl. Such… girl.” But he knows when to take my gloom seriously. He pats my shoulder and just looks at me. His face isn’t capable of much expressive nuance anymore, but I know what he wants to say. I nod, and we keep walking.
I don’t know why we have to kill people. I don’t know what chewing through a man’s neck accomplishes. I steal what he has to replace what I lack. He disappears, and I stay. It’s simple but senseless, arbitrary laws from some lunatic legislator in the sky. But following those laws keeps me walking, so I follow them to the letter. I eat until I stop eating, then I eat again.
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用户评价
这部小说简直是一股清新的泥石流，让我彻底颠覆了对僵尸题材的刻板印象。故事的开篇就带着一种近乎荒诞的幽默感，主角R的内心独白充满了对生存的迷茫和对“活着”的渴望，那种笨拙而又真诚的自我剖析，让人一下子就对他这个非典型“死人”产生了莫名的亲近感。作者在构建这个后末日世界时，并没有过度渲染血腥和恐怖，而是将重点放在了情感的微妙变化上。R吞噬人类大脑后体验到的那种情绪的“回响”，成了一种连接他与过往人性的桥梁，这种设定太巧妙了。我尤其喜欢他对朱莉那种小心翼翼的、近乎童稚的好奇心和保护欲。他笨拙地试图理解人类的规则，却又被本能驱动着做出一些令人啼笑皆非的举动。读起来，你会忍不住跟着R一起探索，什么是真正的“人性”，是不是只有心脏还在跳动，才算得上是“活”着的？那种在绝望中寻找微光的叙事基调，处理得既有深度又不失轻快，完全超乎预期。
评分这本书的叙事声音非常独特，带有一种旁观者清的疏离感和恰到好处的自嘲。作者似乎很擅长在极端的环境下捕捉人性的微小光芒。例如，R在试图模仿人类行为时的那种手足无措，或者他对于“音乐”这种抽象概念的初次理解，这些片段都处理得极其巧妙，既推进了剧情，又丰富了角色的内心世界。它有一种后现代的戏谑感，用一种看似荒谬的设定，去探讨最核心的生存价值和情感连接。我发现自己很容易就能代入R的视角，因为他的内心活动是如此的“原始”和“未被污染”，没有成人世界的复杂算计。这使得他与朱莉之间的情感发展，像是一切从零开始的纯净体验。每次翻页，我都期待着R又会因为哪件小事而产生新的“共鸣”，这种期待感贯穿始终，让人欲罢不能，仿佛在跟随一个全新的物种一起学习如何去爱。
评分这本书给我的阅读体验是极其反传统的，它成功地将哥特式的设定与青春期的敏感细腻糅合在了一起，创造出一种既黑暗又温暖的独特氛围。我必须称赞作者对于“僵尸哲学”的探讨，它迫使读者去思考，当我们剥离掉社会标签、生理机能，仅剩下最原始的欲望和情感时，我们究竟是什么？R的视角是一个完美的观察者，他冷眼旁观着人类文明的残骸，也无意中成为了重建希望的催化剂。朱莉这个角色也塑造得非常立体，她不仅是R的“引路人”，她自身的脆弱、勇气和对旧世界的失望，都使得这段关系充满了现实的复杂性。她爱上的不是一个“人”，而是一种可能性，一个超越了死亡和偏见的未来。这种关系的基础建立在相互的“看见”之上，远比那些建立在共同血缘或文化背景上的爱情更加纯粹和坚韧。读完后，我久久不能平静，脑海中回荡的不是恐怖的嘶吼，而是那份跨越物种的温柔与理解。
评分总体而言，这部作品的魅力在于它对“界限”的不断模糊和挑战。它挑战了生与死的二元对立，挑战了爱与本能的冲突，甚至挑战了我们对“美丑”的传统定义。作者没有给出简单的答案，而是将所有的矛盾和张力都保留在了角色们的互动之中，让读者自己去体验和消化。尤其是在社会环境的描写上，比如幸存者聚居地的紧张气氛，以及他们对“异类”的恐惧和排斥，为R和朱莉的关系增添了巨大的外部压力。正是这种外部的压迫，反衬出他们之间情感的珍贵和脆弱。与其说这是一部奇幻小说，不如说它是一部关于成长的寓言，关于如何在一个破碎的世界里，找到值得为之付出一切的理由。那种在绝望废墟上重新发芽的希望感，是这本书最强大的感染力所在，它比任何华丽的辞藻都更能触动人心。
评分从文学手法上来说，作者的笔触非常细腻，尤其是在描绘角色内心挣扎和成长期时，展现出一种令人惊艳的成熟度。它不仅仅是一个关于僵尸和人类的爱情故事，更像是一则关于身份认同和自我救赎的寓言。R从一个纯粹的食腐者，逐渐发展出爱、责任感乃至牺牲精神的过程，过渡得极其自然，没有丝毫的刻意或突兀。这种转变是通过他与朱莉的互动，以及他与“族群”内部矛盾的冲突来逐步实现的。我特别欣赏作者对于“沟通障碍”的处理，很多关键的情感交流都是通过非语言的方式完成的，比如眼神的交汇、肢体的笨拙接触，这些细节的描摹，反而比大段的对话更有力量，更能打动人心。每次读到R为了保护朱莉而违背他“种族”的本能时，那种强烈的戏剧张力都会让我屏住呼吸，为他捏一把汗。这本书的节奏掌控得非常好，前半部分的疏离和困惑，到后半部分的逐渐清晰和坚定，形成了一个完美的弧线。
评分和描述的一样，好评！今天我在网上买的几本书送到了。取书的时候，忽然想起一家小书店，就在我们大院对面的街上，以前我常去，书店的名字毫无记忆，但店里的女老板我很熟，每次需要什么书都先给她打电话说好，晚上散步再去取。我们像朋友一样聊天，她还时常替读者找我签名。可是，自从学会从网上购书后，我再也没去过她那里了，今天忽然想起她，晚上散步到她那里，她要我教她在网上买书，这就是帮她在京东上买了这本书。好了，废话不说。本来我这个地区就没货 所以发货就晚了。但是书真的不错 只要发货就很快就到，应该是正品 至少录音啊 词语没有错，快递很快哦 继续努力，书已经送给门卫签收，不过快递员还打电话通知我，这样的服务态度真的值得其他的快递员学习，东京快递真的不错。好了，我现在来说说这本书的观感吧，网络文学融入主流文学之难，在于文学批评家的缺席，在于衡量标准的混乱，很长一段时间，文学批评家对网络文学集体失语，直到最近一两年来，诸多活跃于文学批评领域的评论家，才开始着手建立网络文学的评价体系，很难得的是，他们迅速掌握了网络文学的魅力内核，并对网络文学给予了高度评价、寄予了很深的厚望。随着网络文学理论体系的建立，以及网络文学在创作水准上的不断提高，网络文学成为主流文学中的主流已是清晰可见的事情，下一届的“五个一工程奖”，我们期待看到更多网络文学作品的入选。据悉，京东已经建立华北、华东、华南、西南、华中、东北六大物流中心，同时在全国超过360座城市建立核心城市配送站。是中国最大的综合网络零售商，是中国电子商务领域最受消费者欢迎和最具有影响力的电子商务网站之一，在线销售家电、数码通讯、电脑、家居百货、服装服饰、母婴、图书、食品、在线旅游等12大类数万个品牌百万种优质商品。选择京东。好了，现在给大家介绍两本好书：《婚姻是女人一辈子的事》简介：最实用剩女出嫁实战手册、婚女幸福宝典；婚姻不是最终归宿，幸福的婚姻才是真正的目的；内地首席励志作家陆琪 首部情感励志力作；研究男女情感问题数年，陆琪首本情感婚姻励志作品。作者作为怀揣女权主义的男人，毫无保留地剖析男人的弱点，告诉女人应该如何分辨男人的爱情，如何掌控男人，如何获得婚姻的幸福。事实上，男人和女人是两种完全不同的动物，用女人的思考方式，永远也了解不透男人。所以陆琪以男性背叛者的角度，深刻地挖掘男人最深层的情感态度和婚姻方式，让女人能够有的放矢、知己知彼，不再成为情感掌控的弱者。二、《正能量（实践版）》——将“正能量”真正实践应用的第一本书！心理自助全球第一品牌书！销量突破600万册！“世界级的演讲家和激励大师”韦恩·戴尔，为我们带来了这本世界级的心理学巨作！他在韦恩州立大学获得过教育咨询博士学位，曾任纽约圣约翰大学教授，是自我实现领域的国际知名作家和演讲家。他出版过28本畅销书，制作了许多广播节目和电视录像，而且在数千个电视和广播节目中做过嘉宾访谈。本书跻身《纽约时报》畅销书榜数十周之久，在全球取得了极高的赞誉，曾激励数百万人走上追逐幸福之途。《正能量（实践版）》——内容最实用、案例最详实，10周改善你的人生！这本书是作者联合数十位科学家、心理学家，耗费十余年心力的研究结晶。通过一系列行之有效的方法，以帮助所有身处人生低谷、长期焦虑、沮丧、消沉、自我怀疑的人，过上幸福喜乐的生活。每一章都像一次心理咨询，详细论述了各种自我挫败行为，分析我们之所以不愉快、消极应对生活的原因，把人们日常生活中所暴露的性格缺陷（如自暴自弃、崇拜、依赖）和不良情绪（如悔恨、忧虑、抱怨、愤怒）逐条分析，揭开你最想知道的心理学真相，每章结尾都提供了简易的方法，使得你即刻改变恶行，拥抱新生。
评分ok
评分非常好，正版也便宜，网购确实给读者带来了方便。送货师傅态度也很好的，还来哦 喜欢读书，喜欢在京东买书!说到读书的滋味，众生深有感叹；太苦了，不知何时是尽头，很少从中找到乐趣。其实，读书是苦与乐的交响曲，苦中有乐，乐中有苦。 首先说读书苦的一种滋味。每天天微亮，我们都从暖烘烘的被窝中钻出来，匆匆赶到学校。上早自习，规规矩矩听好每一节课，然后领到大堆作业，回家埋头苦做，常常熬到深夜，连吃饭，睡觉都得计算时间，如果遇到难题，考试砸锅，受到批评……那就更惨了。读书可谓苦也。然而静下心来想想，其实不然，凡是做学问的，都要经受这一锻炼。《送东阳马生序》中，宋濂小时候喜欢读书，家里穷，没有办法买书来读，常常向藏书的人家去借，借来就亲手抄写，计算着日子按期归还。冬天天气十分寒冷，砚台里的墨汁结成冰，手指冻的不能伸屈，也不敢懈怠。他从师求学的时候，经常背着书籍，拖着鞋子，行走在深山大谷里。严冬刮着猛烈的大风，大雪深达几尺，脚上的皮肤冻裂了也不知道，可见，读书是要吃苦的了，因此，我们要有吃苦的准备。 其次说读书乐的一种滋味吧，读书虽然是件很苦的事，但乐趣却不少。例如：当你听着老师娓娓动听的讲课的时候，当你忽然出一道难题的时候，当你考试取得好成绩的时候，当你和同学一起参加活动的时候……难道你没有兴奋过，快乐过吗？其实，读书的乐趣要有的，当你看着自己读书的以摞摞书，当你能用所学知识与别人展开辩论……你没有欣慰吗？这就是乐，它就在我们身边。 苦和乐是相随相伴的，有苦必有乐，有乐必有苦。革命前辈谢觉哉说过：“快乐是从艰苦中来的。”吴伯萧也在《记一辆纺车》中写道：“与困难作斗争，其乐无穷。”我们今天有了苦，就会有学习中的苦和今后生活的乐。现在许多老师把上课当成游戏，很多学生把读书当成找乐。学习在轻松愉快的气氛中进行，这种做法值得效仿。 总之， “读书破万卷,下笔如有神.” “读万卷书,行万里路.”由于对书籍的酷爱,遂使我对于写作产生浓厚的兴趣.万籁俱寂的夜里,独坐书桌前,捻开台灯,在茕然的灯光下,一叠稿纸,一枝笔,成为我最忠实的倾诉对象,透过清滤的笔尖,洒然挥发心坎的抱负和理想。 不知是什么时候,我迷迷糊糊地被它网住,成为它的裙下臣,高歌此心永不渝。如果有人问我心在何处,我将毫不犹豫地回答:我的心在书域中那早已失去钥匙的铁箱里,永远不在索回。 书是茫茫人海中意识的罗盘,是智慧的绿源,它能增长我们的见闻,改变人的气质,抚慰受创伤的心灵。因此古人所谓“富者因书而贵,贫者因书而富”的金言。固然只是一卷薄薄的书本(指好书),但它所赋予的益处,也只有爱书人才能体会得出。读书是艰苦的，但乐在其中。只要，我们勇于读书，善于读书，并从中找到乐趣，我想我们会在读书中取得成功的呵呵，老是在这里买书，天天看有没有特价啊，京东多搞点活动啊，我们会支持你的哇！
评分很喜歡的一本書。我是看了電影再買小說來重溫的。有很多的細節很多的心裡獨白。感觸很多。
评分从中获得宝贵的启示并能懂得人生的真谛及生活的意义。 生快事，莫如读书。
评分书质量不错，应该正品
评分它能让我们知天地、晓人生。它能让我们陶冶性情，不以物喜，不以物悲。
评分好大一本书，是正版!各种不错!只是插图太多，有占篇符之嫌。故事很精彩，女儿很喜欢。书写的不错，能消除人的心瘾。目前已经戒烟第三天了，书拿到手挺有分量的，包装完好。还会继续来，一直就想买这本书，太谢谢京东了，发货神速，两天就到了，超给力的！5分！女性是天生的购物狂，对于购物总是有一些潜藏在体内的欲望，其实女性购物是心理的一定反映，尽管并非所有女性都承认，促使购物欲出现的原因也并非每个女性都一样。西方有句古话：把东西卖给有钱、有势、有需求的人。有趣的是，这里的“人”更适合于指代女人。现代女性普遍经济独立，在家庭购物中大权在握，堪称“有钱有势”。而说到有需求，最近英国一本时尚杂志的调查结果作了最好的注脚——女人每5秒就要想到一次购物，这种痴迷甚至超过了与自己的伴侣相处。当然拉，我这种女性，自然喜欢到网上京东来挑选东西拉。嘻嘻！好了废话不说。我的人生充满坎坷：十岁时家道中落，十二岁便背井离乡，来到一个陌生的、生活条件异常艰苦的藏区当文艺兵。十五岁的花季，爱上一个军官，没有接触的机会，便通过各种暗号和接头地点传递情书，像做地下工作似的，结果得到一个意外收获：“从写情书中发现了自己的文学潜能”。但那个年代早恋是不可饶恕的大错，当我们的恋情被发现时，对方却退缩和背叛了我。一次次当众检查，一次次冷遇羞辱，使我的心灵受到重创，一度产生自杀的念头。二十岁，她弃舞从文，主动请缨，二十九岁进入鲁迅文学院作家班，与莫言、余华、刘震云等一起，登上文学的殿堂。据了解，京东为顾客提供操作规范的逆向物流以及上门取件、代收货款等专业服务。已经开通全国360个大中城市的配送业务，近1000家配送站，并开通了自提点，社区合作、校园合作、便利店合作等形式，可以满足诸多商家以及消费者个性化的配送需求。为了全面满足客户的配送需求，京东商城打造了万人的专业服务团队，拥有四通八达的运输网络、遍布全国的网点覆盖，以及日趋完善的信息系统平台。所以京东的物流我是比较放心的。好了，现在给大家介绍两本好书：一、致我们终将逝去的青春。青春逝去，不必感伤，不必回首。或许他们早该明白，世上已没有了小飞龙，而她奋不顾身爱过的那个清高孤傲的少年，也早已死于从前的青春岁月。现在相对而坐的是郑微和陈孝正，是郑秘书和陈助理是日渐消磨的人间里两个不相干的凡俗男女，犹如一首歌停在了最酣畅的时候，未尝不是好事，而他们太过贪婪固执地以为可以再唱下去才知道后来的曲调是这样不堪。青春就是用来追忆的，所以作者写的故事是来纪念。不是感伤懊悔，而是最好的纪念。道别的何止是最纯真的一段唯美， 而是我曾经无往不胜的天真青春啊。请允许吧，那时的少年，尽情言情。一直言情，不要去打扰他们，他们总有一天会醒来。告别青春，因为青春，终将逝去。陪你梦一场又何妨。二、写不尽的儿女情长，说不完的地老天荒，最恢宏的画卷，最动人的故事，最浩大的恩怨，最纠结的爱恨，尽在桐华《长相思》。推荐1：《长相思》是桐华潜心三年创作的新作，将虐心和争斗写到了极致。全新的人物故事，不变的感动、虐心。推荐2：每个人在爱情中都有或长或短的爱而不得的经历。暗恋是一种爱而不得，失恋是一种爱而不得，正在相恋时，也会爱而不得，有时候，是空间的距离，有时候，却是心灵的距离。纵然两人手拉手，可心若有了距离，依旧是爱而不得。这样的情绪跨越了古今，是一种情感的共鸣。推荐3：唯美装帧，品质超越同类书，超值回馈读者。《长相思》从策划到完成装帧远远领先目前市场上同类书，秉承了桐华一贯出产精品的风格，将唯美精致做到极致，整体装帧精致唯美，绝对值得珍藏。京东有卖。
评分货好送货又快 废话不多说 同时买了三本推拿的书和这本，比认为这本是最好的！而且是最先收到的！好评必须的，书是替别人买的，货刚收到，和网上描述的一样，适合众多人群，快递也较满意。书的质量很好，内容更好！收到后看了约十几页没发现错别字，纸质也不错。应该是正版书籍，谢谢吃完午饭，趁手头工作不多，便给朋友发了条短信，这次等了半个小时，却依旧没有朋友的回信。我开始坐立不安，记得不久的过去，就算她忙，她总会在半小时内回他的呀！他怀疑难道是自己昨天没发短信给她她生气了？两小时后信息回来，告诉我要到京东帮他买书，如果不买或者两天收不到书就分手！，我靠，没有办法，我就来京东买书了。没有想到书到得真快。好了，我现在来说说这本书的观感吧，网络文学融入主流文学之难，在于文学批评家的缺席，在于衡量标准的混乱，很长一段时间，文学批评家对网络文学集体失语，直到最近一两年来，诸多活跃于文学批评领域的评论家，才开始着手建立网络文学的评价体系，很难得的是，他们迅速掌握了网络文学的魅力内核，并对网络文学给予了高度评价、寄予了很深的厚望。随着网络文学理论体系的建立，以及网络文学在创作水准上的不断提高，网络文学成为主流文学中的主流已是清晰可见的事情，下一届的“五个一工程奖”，我们期待看到更多网络文学作品的入选。据悉，京东已经建立华北、华东、华南、西南、华中、东北六大物流中心，同时在全国超过360座城市建立核心城市配送站。是中国最大的综合网络零售商，是中国电子商务领域最受消费者欢迎和最具有影响力的电子商务网站之一，在线销售家电、数码通讯、电脑、家居百货、服装服饰、母婴、图书、食品、在线旅游等12大类数万个品牌百万种优质商品。选择京东。好了，现在给大家介绍两本好书：《电影学院037?电影语言的语法:电影剪辑的奥秘》编辑推荐：全球畅销三十余年并被翻译成数十种语言，被公认为讨论导演、摄影、剪辑等电影影像画面组织技巧方面最详密、实用的经典之作。|从实践出发阐明摄影机位、场面调度、剪辑等电影语言，为“用画面讲故事”奠定基础；百科全书式的工作手册，囊括拍摄中的所有基本设计方案，如对话场面、人物运动，使初学者能够迅速掌握专业方法；近500幅机位图、故事板贯穿全书，帮助读者一目了然地理解电影语言；对大量经典影片的典型段落进行多角度分析，如《西北偏北》、《放大》、《广岛之恋》、《桂河大桥》，深入揭示其中激动人心的奥秘；《致青年电影人的信:电影圈新人的入行锦囊》是中国老一辈电影教育工作者精心挑选的教材，在翻译、审订中投入了巨大的心力，译笔简明、准确、流畅，惠及无数电影人。二、你是否也有错过的挚爱？有些人，没有在一起，也好。如何遇见不要紧，要紧的是，如何告别。《莫失莫忘》并不简单是一本爱情小说，作者将众多社会事件作为故事的时代背景，俨然一部加长版的《倾城之恋》。“莫失莫忘”是贾宝玉那块通灵宝玉上刻的字，代表着一段看似完美实则无终的金玉良缘。叹人间美中不足今方信，纵然是举案齐眉，到底意难平。“相爱时不离不弃，分开后莫失莫忘”，这句话是秋微对感情的信仰，也是她对善缘的执念。才女作家秋微近几年最费心力写的一本小说，写作过程中由于太过投入，以至揪心痛楚到无法继续，直至完成最后一个字，大哭一场，才得以抽离出这份情感，也算是对自己前一段写作生涯的完美告别。
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