Posts Tagged ‘quote’

Something unexpected

July 14, 2014

“Something quite unexpected has happened. It came this morning early. For various reasons, not in themselves at all mysterious, my heart was lighter than it had been for many weeks. For one thing, I suppose I am recovering physically from a good deal of mere exhaustion. And I’d had a very tiring but very healthy twelve hours the day before, and a sounder night’s sleep; and after ten days of low- hung grey skies and motionless warm dampness, the sun was shining and there was a light breeze. And suddenly at the very moment when, so far, I mourned H. least, I remembered her best. Indeed it was something (almost) better than memory; an instantaneous, unanswerable impression. To say it was like a meeting would be going too far. Yet there was that in it which tempts one to use those words. It was as if the lifting of the sorrow removed a barrier.”


C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed, HarperCollins, 2009: 44-45.


July 23, 2012

“I think one thing to-day and another to-morrow. That is really all that’s the matter with me, except a crazy defiance and a lack of proportion.”

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night, Wordsworth Classics†, 1995: 107.


Oh, it may be worth noting that Wordsworth Classics, while dependably cheap and cheerful, also like to spot-check your sanity/whether you’ve been paying attention via the insertion of random numerical sequences:

“Along the walls on the village side all was dusty, the wriggling vines, the ters in his time. However, we shall see. Amelia,)d 64.18 431.85 m .02 0 63 272.74 (do you know what I\325ve been thinking> That mauve frock of my aunt)d 64.18 443.35 m .13 0 67 271.32 (Sarah\325s \320 now I believe I could make that up for myself for eveninto an area so green and cool that the leaves and petals were curled with tender damp.”

(As above, pp. 20-21.)

Though it’s perhaps worth un-noting the fact that I just spent the last twenty minutes trying to read some sort of coded message from this regardless.

August 15, 2011

“We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.”

: Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, vol. IV. via.

October 17, 2010

“I am rooted, but I flow.”

Virginia Woolf, The Waves, London: Collector’s Library, 2005: 86.

A-ha! This gives me ideas!

October 10, 2010


“What constitutes a voice as a voice? How can [we] be sure that voice is not an effect of the play of reading itself? What makes it possible to distinguish the voices of the text from the play of reading? Might it not be that the condition of all such voices…the condition that makes play [reading] possible, is rather a silence, the absence of (the certainty of) voice? …In L’espace littéraire, [Maurice] Blanchot constantly insists that writing is the ‘effacement’ of speaking. ‘C’est…retirer le langage du cours du monde.’ Literature withdraws language from its circulation in the world…”


Andrew Gibson, “Silence of the Voice”, New Literary History 32:3 Voice and Human Experience (Summer, 2001): 713.


P.S. I have been in Durham for two weeks. Classes started yesterday. The trees are just turning for autumn. It is cold. I have a lime tree out my window. Yesterday I saw a robin. I am making friends; I am watching the clouds change. Perhaps most importantly, I am writing. And I’m eating vast quantities of pickles and biscuits. Oh, it is heavenly.

August 1, 2010

“…somehow or other, loveliness is infernally sad.”

Virginia Woolf, Jacob’s Room, New York: Oxford U P, 1999: 63.

Cats will, and do, sleep anywhere

August 12, 2009

.AKI. —

“A kitten is chiefly remarkable for rushing about like mad at nothing whatever, and generally stopping before it gets there.” [Agnes Repplier]