148687 anonym 0
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This self now as I leant over the gate looking down over fields rolling in waves of colour beneath me made no answer. He threw up no opposition. He attempted no phrase. His fist did not form. I waited. I listened. Nothing came, nothing. I cried then with a sudden conviction of complete desertion. Now there is nothing. No fin breaks the waste of this immeasurable sea. Life has destroyed me. No echo comes when I speak, no varied words. This is more truly death than the death of friends, than the death of youth.

148216 anonym 0
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By the truth we are undone. Life is a dream. 'Tis the waking that kills us. He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

148086 anonym 0
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When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me I am in darkness—I am nothing.

147060 anonym 0
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Love and religion! thought Clarissa, going back into the drawing room, tingling all over. How detestable, how detestable they are!

148731 anonym 0
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I often wish I'd got on better with your father,' he said.
But he never liked anyone who--our friends,' said Clarissa; and could have bitten her tongue for thus reminding Peter that he had wanted to marry her.
Of course I did, thought Peter; it almost broke my heart too, he thought; and was overcome with his own grief, which rose like a moon looked at from a terrace, ghastly beautiful with light from the sunken day. I was more unhappy than I've ever been since, he thought. And as if in truth he were sitting there on the terrace he edged a little towards Clarissa; put his hand out; raised it; let it fall. There above them it hung, that moon. She too seemed to be sitting with him on the terrace, in the moonlight.

149140 anonym 0
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I was always going to the bookcase for another sip of the divine specific.

150900 anonym 0
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These hotels are not consoling places. Far from it. Any number of people had hung up their hats on those pegs. Even the flies, if you thought of it, had settled on other people’s noses. As for the cleanliness which hit him in the face, it wasn’t cleanliness, so much as bareness, frigidity; a thing that had to be.

150597 anonym 0
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It was a miserable machine, an inefficient machine, she thought, the human apparatus for painting or for feeling; it always broke down at the critical moment; heroically, one must force it on.

150226 anonym 0
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You cannot, it seems, let children run about the streets. People who have seen them running wild in Russia say that the sight is not a pleasant one.

146519 anonym 0
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I burn, I shiver, out of this sun, into this shadow.

145910 anonym 0
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So fine was the morning except for a streak of wind here and there that the sea and sky looked all one fabric, as if sails were stuck high up in the sky, or the clouds had dropped down into the sea.

141093 anonym 0
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If woman had no existence save in the fiction written by men, one would imagine her a person of the utmost importance (...); as great as a man, some think even greater. But this is woman in fiction. In fact, as Professor Trevelyan points out [in his History of England], she was locked up, beaten and flung about the room.

138716 anonym 0
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The beauty of the world...has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder.

138608 anonym 0
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When the body escaped mutilation, seldom did the heart go to the grave unscarred.

141843 anonym 0
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The taste for books was an early one. As a child he was sometimes found at midnight by a page still reading. They took his taper away, and he bred glow-worms to serve his purpose. They took the glow-worms away and he almost burnt the house down with a tinder.

142207 anonym 0
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Fiction is like a spider's web, attached ever so lightly perhaps,
but still attached to life at all four corners.

145580 anonym 0
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Kind old ladies assure us that cats are often the best judges of character. A cat will always go to a good man, they say[.]

145183 anonym 0
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All the time she writing the world had continued.

142282 anonym 0
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We think back through our mothers and grandmothers, if we are women.

137582 anonym 0
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The most important thing is not to think very much about oneself. To investigate candidly the charge; but not fussily, not very anxiously. On no account to retaliate by going to the other extreme -- thinking too much.