How about some perfume? Carol asked, moving toward her with the bottle. She touched Therese’s forehead with her fingers, at the hairline where she had kissed her that day.You remind me of the woman I...
The law was not society, it began. Society was people like himself and Owen and Brillhart, who hadn't the right to take the life of another member of society. And yet the law did. And yet the law is s...
Tom laughed at the phrase sexual deviation. Where was the sex? Where was the deviation? He looked at Freddie and said low and bitterly: Freddie Miles, you're a victim of your own dirty mind.
For neither life nor nature cares if justice is ever done or not.
Death was only one more adventure untried.
How was it possible to be afraid and in love, Therese thought. The two things did not go together. How was it possible to be afraid, when the two of them grew stronger together every day? And every ni...
Mr Greenleaf was such a decent fellow himself, he took it for granted that everybody else in the world was decent, too. Tom had almost forgotten such people existed.
Nothing was true but the fatigue of life and the eternal disappointment.
People, feelings, everything! Double! Two people in each person. There's also a person exactly the opposite of you, like the unseen part of you, somewhere in the world, and he waits in ambush.
She was conscious of the moments passing like irrevocable time, irrevocable happiness, for in these last seconds she might turn and see the face she would never see again.
The dusky and faintly sweet smell of her perfume came to Therese again, a smell suggestive of dark green silk, that was hers alone, like the smell of a special flower.
The night was a time for bestial affinities, for drawing closer to oneself.
What a strange girl you are. Why? Flung out of space, Carol said.
What could be duller than past history!' Therese said, smiling. 'Maybe futures that won't have any history.
Who am I, anyway? Does one exist, or to what extent does one exist as an individual without friends, family, anybody to whom one can relate, to whom one’s existence is of the least importance?
You ask if I miss you. I think of your voice, your hands, and your eyes when you look straight into mine. I remember your courage that I hadn't suspected, and it gives me courage.
Finally, Carol said in a tone of hopelessness, Darling, can I ask you to forgive me? The tone hurt Therese more than the question. I love you, Carol. But do you see what it means?
How easy it was to lie when one had to lie!
She envied him. She envied him his faith that there would always be a place, a home, a job, someone else for him. She envied him that attitude. She almost resented his having it.
She tried to keep her voice steady, but it was pretense, like pretending self-control when something you loved was dead in front of your eyes. They would have to separate here.
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