We mounted the carriole and drove up the hill from l’Antinière onto the road. Looking back, we saw grandmother and grandson standing there hand in hand waving to us, and it was as though they represen...
We had been careful, ever since the September decrees, to adopt the new courtesies. Monsieur and madame were things of the past, like the old calendar. I had to remind myself also that today was the 1...
We can never go back again, that much is certain. The past is still too close to us. The things we have tried to forget and put behind us would stir again,
We can never go back again, that much is certain. The past is still close to us
We are all ghosts of yesterday, and the phantom of tomorrow awaits us alike in sunshine or in shadow, dimly perceived at times, never entirely lost.
Un día llegarás a conocer la felicidad que conocí yo una vez.
To him, the drug released the complex brew within the brain that served up the savored past. To me, it proved that the past was living still, that we were all participants, all witnesses. I was Roger,...
This, dear God, was his contribution to the universe. Take it or leave it. Not for Niall the joys of Paradise, perhaps; but at least not the pangs of Purgatory. A small place, possibly, outside the Go...
They went and stood together by the bed. They had wrapped Pappy in one of the hospital nightshirts, and it was somehow shocking and rather terrible to see Pappy dressed in this way, not in his own paj...
They used to hang men at Four Turnings in the old days.Not anymore, though.
They say that when we sleep our sub-conscious selves are revealed, our hidden thoughts and desires are written plain upon our features and our bodies like the tracings of rivers on a map; and no one r...
They are not brave, the days when we are twenty-one. They are full of little cowardices, little fears without foundation, and one is so easily bruised, so swiftly wounded, one falls to the first barbe...
There was no yesterday and no tomorrow; fear had been slung aside, and shame forgotten. We were all together—Pappy and Mama; Maria and Niall and Celia—we were all happy, with so many people looking at...
There was no moon. The sky above our heads was inky black. But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all. It was shot with crimson, like a splash of blood. And the ashes blew towards us with the salt...
Then all at once she turned to me, her face pale, her eyes strangely alight. She said, Is it possible to love someone so much, that it gives one a pleasure to hurt them? To hurt them by jealousy, I me...
The voice told me that it was my father who was to blame. He was responsible for this moment, this business of me dejected, helpless, sitting on the steps of the Sacré-Cœur. It was heredity, environme...
The tie between mother and daughter was close, as it had been once, so many years ago, between Sophie Duval and her own mother Magdaleine. Sons, even if they lived under one’s roof, had their own preo...
The system might one day change, but human nature remained the same, and there were always people who profited at the expense of others.
The smell of coffee, white dust, tobacco and burnt bread, flowers with a fragrance of wine, and the crimson fruit, soft and overripe. A girl looking over her bare shoulder, with a flash of a smile, go...
The relief was tremendous. I did not feel sick anymore. The pain had gone...I had no idea I was so empty.