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a4c5de7
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The devil prince of this world, but this world don't last so long for mortal man.
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Jean Rhys |
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1f3a496
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Your husband certainly love money,' she said. 'That is no lie Money have pretty face for everybody, but for that man money pretty like pretty self, he can't see nothing else.
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money
lies
rochester
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Jean Rhys |
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380db47
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watching those damned dolls, thinking what a success they would have made of their lives if they had been women. Satin skin, silk hair, velvet eyes, sawdust heart -- all complete.
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Jean Rhys |
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9b6e417
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That's all you're waiting for, isn't it? But no, you must have the slow death, the bloodless killing that leaves no stain on your conscience. . . .
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Jean Rhys |
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994dfd4
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Well, let's argue this out, Mr Blank. You, who represent Society, have the right to pay me four hundred francs a month. That's my market value, for I am an inefficient member of Society, slow in the uptake, uncertain, slightly damaged in the fray, there's no denying it. So you have the right to pay me four hundred francs a month, to lodge me in a small, dark room, to clothe me shabbily, to harass me with worry and monotony and unsatisfied l..
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happy
fun
happiness
damaged
harass
inefficient
pay
longings
monotony
slow
cry
worry
rich
society
job
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Jean Rhys |
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4f1bac4
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When I complain about the bandages she says: 'I promise you that when you take them off you'll be just as you were before.' And it is true. When she takes them off there is not one line, not one wrinkle, not one crease. And five weeks afterwards there I am, with not one line, not one wrinkle, not one crease. And there he is, lying with a ticket tied around his wrist because he died in a hospital. And there I am looking down at him, without ..
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motherhood
grief
death
birth
baby
grief-and-loss
mother
hospital
scars
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Jean Rhys |
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821b877
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Why did you love her?'
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Jean Rhys |
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363168f
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I got quite used to changing that cheque, because you can get used to anything. You think: I'll never do that; and you find yourself doing it.
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Jean Rhys |
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6ba5258
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They touch life with gloves on. They're pretending about something all the time. Pretending quite nice and decent things, of course. But still...' 'Everybody pretends,' Marya was thinking. 'French people pretend every bit as much, only about different things and not so obviously. She'll know that when she's been here as long as I have.
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Jean Rhys |
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7c1d378
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she had ignored the Heidlers because she realized that she could afford to display coldness, and that no good ever comes from being too polite.
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Jean Rhys |
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bb45edc
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She watched through a slight mist a party of people who had just come into the restaurant, the movements of arms taking off overcoats, of legs in light-coloured stockings and fee in low-heeled shoes walking over the wooden floor to hide themselves under the tablecloths.
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Jean Rhys |
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183167d
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My father old Cosway, with his white marble tablet in the English church at Spanish Town for all to see. It have a crest on it and a motto in Latin and words in big black letters. I never know such lies. [...] "Pious", they write up. "Beloved by all." Not a word about the people he buy and sell like cattle. "Merciful to the weak", they write up. Mercy! [...] I can still see that tablet before my eye because I go to look at it often. I know ..
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english-prose
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Jean Rhys |
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ba2299a
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When we are in a corner with a coffee and a fine each he says: 'Do you know what I feel about you? I think you are very lonely. I know, because for a long time I was lonely myself. I hated people, I didn't want to see anyone. And one day I thought: "No, this isn't the way." And now I go about a lot. I force myself to. I have a lot of friends; I'm never alone. Now I'm much happier.' That sounds pretty simple. I must try it when I get back to..
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Jean Rhys |
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b643035
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Better not I tell you. You want to know what I do? I say , if you have trouble you are right to come to me. And I kiss her. It's when I kiss her she cry - not before.
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english-prose
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Jean Rhys |
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58e45a5
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Nothing left but hopelessness.' Say die and I will die. Say die and watch me die.
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Jean Rhys |
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89a1197
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Is it true,' she said, 'that England is like a dream? Because one of my friends who married an Englishman wrote and told me so. She said this place London is like a cold dark dream sometimes. I want to wake up.' 'Well', I answered annoyed, 'that is precisely how your beautiful island seems to me, quite unreal and like a dream.' 'But how can rivers and mountains and the sea be unreal?' 'And how can millions of people, their houses and their ..
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dreams
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Jean Rhys |
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f8cba60
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her waist goes in , her hips come out, her long black hair is coiled into a smooth bun on the top of her round head. She is very restful to the tired eye.
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Jean Rhys |
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40aa5c0
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THe room was large and low-ceilinged, the striped wallpaper faded to inoffensiveness. A huge dark wardrobe faced a huge dark bed. The rest of the furniture shrank away into corners, battered and apologetic.
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Jean Rhys |
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c9be1ca
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A vague procession of towns all exactly alike, a vague procession of men also exactly alike. One can drift like that for a long time, she found, carefully hiding the fact that this wasn't what one had expected of life. Not in the very least.
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Jean Rhys |
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a8ca154
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The car stopped. Everybody walked in a short procession up to the chapel of the Crematorium, where a clergyman with very bright blue yes was waiting. That was a dream, too, but a painful dream, because she was obsessed with the feeling that she was so close to seeing the thing that was behind all this talking and posturing, and that the talking and posturing were there to prevent her from seeing it. Now it's time to get up; now it's time to..
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Jean Rhys |
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b128450
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Almost any book was better than life, Audrey thought. Or rather, life as she was living it. Of course, life would soon change, open out, become quite different. You couldn't go on if you didn't hope that, could you? But for the time being there was no doubt that it was pleasant to get away from it. And books could take her away.
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reading
hope
despair
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Jean Rhys |
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a11b470
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I hope that gay gentleman will be safe.
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Jean Rhys |
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0f42d8d
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I had had the job for three weeks. It was dreary. You couldn't read; they didn't like it. I would feel as if I were drugged, sitting there, watching those damned dolls, thinking what a success they would have made of their lives if they had been women. Satin skin, silk hair, velvet eyes, sawdust heart - all complete.
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women
success
heart
silk
dreary
drugged
sawdust
job
read
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Jean Rhys |
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8b32c7f
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Wasn't it quite difficult being a wicked girl? Even more difficult than being a good one?
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wicked-girl
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Jean Rhys |
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f17ba14
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The Place Blanche, Paris, Life itself. One realized all sorts of things. The value of an illusion, for instance, and that the shadow can be more important than the substance. All sorts of things.
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Jean Rhys |
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0efb692
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We'll put Mado on the joy wheel, and watch her being banged about a bit. Well, she ought to amuse us sometimes; she ought to sing for her supper; that's what she's here for, isn't it?
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Jean Rhys |
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f0b1480
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Left alone, Miss Verney felt so old, lonely and helpless that she began to cry. No builder would tackle that shed, not for any price she could afford. But crying relieved her and she soon felt quite cheerful again. It was ridiculous to brood, she told herself.
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crying
lonely
old-age
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Jean Rhys |
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c3c5cb5
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Lois doesn't want to be given away; she doesn't want anybody to know, and I assure you that that's all she cares about. Of course, she'll be furious if anybody knows, and that's why if you go off in a hurry you will make things difficult for me.' She felt hypnotized as she listened to him, impotent.
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Jean Rhys |
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84f0b90
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There is no control over memory.
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Jean Rhys |
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0b9a78d
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He was still looking steadily at her. His eyes were clear, cool and hard, but something in the depths of them flickered and shifted. She thought: 'He'd take any advantage he could -- fair or unfair. Caddish he is.' Then as she stared back at him she felt a great longing to put her head on his knees and shut her eyes. To stop thinking. Stop the little wheels in her head that worked incessantly. To give in and have a little peace. The unutter..
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Jean Rhys |
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1051c15
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There was a vase of flame-coloured tulips in the hall - surely the most graceful of flowers. Some thrust their heads forward like snakes, and some were very erect, stiff, virginal, rather prim. Some were dying, with curved grace in their death.
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Jean Rhys |
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0820440
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The prayer ended, 'May Almighty God defend us.' And God who is indeed mysterious, who had made no sign when they burned Pierre as he slept - not a clap of thunder, not a flash of lighting - mysterious God heard Mr Mason at once and answered him. The yells stopped.
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Jean Rhys |
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80f1531
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Nobody's hidden your dress", she said. "It's hanging in the press". She lookked at me and said, "I don't believe you know how long you've been here, you poor creature". "On the contrary", I said, "only I know how long Ihave been here. Nights and days, and days and nights, hundreds of them slipping through my fingers. But that does not matter. Time has no meaning. But something you can touch and hold like my red dress, that has meaning. Wh..
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Jean Rhys |
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ab4cfb2
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Justice', she said. 'I've heard that word. It's a cold word. I tried it out', she said, still speaking in a low voice. 'I wrote it down. I wrote it down several times and always it looked like a damn cold lie to me. There is no justice.
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Jean Rhys |
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c285d85
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Our garden was large and beautiful as that garden in the Bible - the tree of life grew there. But it had gone wild. The paths were overgrown and a smell of dead flowers mixed with the fresh living smell. Underneath the tree ferns, tall as forest tree ferns, the light was green. Orchids flourished out of reach or for some reason not to be touched. One was snaky looking, another like an octopus with long thing brown tentacles bare of leaves h..
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Jean Rhys |
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eebb372
|
If I could choose I would rather be happy than write.
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Jean Rhys |
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a6f2324
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We sat under the mango tree and I was holding his hand when he began to cry. Drops fell on my hand like the water from the dripstone in the filter in our yard. Then I began to cry too and when I felt my own tears on my hand I thought, 'Now perhaps we're married. 'Yes, certainly, now we're married,' I thought.
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marriage
tears
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Jean Rhys |
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ef2f350
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We can't all be happy, we can't all be rich, we can't all be lucky - and it would be so much less fun if we were. Isn't it so, Mr Blank? There must be the dark background ti show up the bright colours. Some must cry so that the others may be able to laugh the more heartily. Sacrifices are necessary.. Let's say that you have this mystical right to cut my legs off. But the right to ridicule me afterwards because I am a cripple - no, that I th..
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Jean Rhys |
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03bbcec
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I prayed, but the words fell to the ground meaning nothing.
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prayer
spirituality
jane-eyre
jean-rhys
wide-sargasso-sea
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Jean Rhys |
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b536830
|
I hope that gay gentleman will be safe,' I said.
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Jean Rhys |
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fc842ce
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When my first love affair came to an end I wrote this poem: I didn't know I didn't know I didn't know.
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Jean Rhys |
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61a6846
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And there I lie in these damned bandages for a week. And there he lies, swathed up too, like a little mummy. And never crying. But now I like raking him in my arms and looking at him. A lovely forehead, incredibly white, the eyebrows drawn very faintly in gold dust... Well, this was a funny time. (The big bowl of coffee in the morning with a pattern of red and blue flowers. I was always so thirsty.) But uneasy, uneasy... Ought a baby to be ..
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motherhood
grief
death
birth
baby
grief-and-loss
nurse
mother
hospital
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Jean Rhys |
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a6d47eb
|
The house was burning, the yellow-red sky was like sunset and I knew that I would never see Coulibri again. Nothing would be left, the golden ferns and the silver ferns, the orchids, the ginger lilies and the roses, the rocking-chairs and the blue sofa, the jasmine and the honeysuckle, and the picture of the Miller's Daughter. When they had finished, there would be nothing left but blackened walls and the mounting stone. That was always lef..
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Jean Rhys |
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dec35fe
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When trouble comes, close ranks
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Jean Rhys |