I felt the reckless abandon of one who knows she stands already among the damned. "Why not, then, another sin?
Geraldine BrooksRaz was one of those vanguard human beings of indeterminate ethnicity, the magnificent mutts that I hope we are all destined to become given another millennium of intermixing. His skin was a rich pecan color from his dad, who was part African American and part native Hawaiian. His hair, straight and glossy black, and the almond shape of his eyes came from his Japanese grandmother. But their color was the cool blue he'd inherited from his mum, a Swedish windsurfing champion.
Geraldine BrooksStichwörter: prose
...the surfeit of loss in my life has convinced me it will be easier to be grieved for than to grieve."
Bethia as an old woman about to die
p 257
I picked up scallop shells in diverse colors and sizes — warm reds and yellows; cool, stippled grays — and reflected on the diversity of God’s creation, and what might be the use and meaning of his making so many varieties of a single thing. If he created scallops simply for our nourishment, why paint each shell with delicate and particular colors? And why, indeed, trouble making so many different things to nourish us, when in the Bible we read that a simple manna fed the Hebrews day following day? It came to me then that God must desire us to use each of our senses, to take delight in the varied tastes and sights and textures of his world.
Geraldine Brooks... So this was how it was to be, now: I would do my best to live in the quick world, but the ghosts of the dead would be ever at hand.
Geraldine BrooksStichwörter: march
Life is better than death. I know this. Tequamuck says it is the coward’s talk. I say it is braver, sometimes, to bend.
Geraldine BrooksShe was like a butterfly, full of color and vibrancy when she chose to open her wings, yet hardly visible when she closed them.
Geraldine BrooksTo take a people who were traveling apace the broadway to hell, and to be able to turn them, and set their face to God. . . . It is what we must strive for.
Geraldine BrooksWhen I looked at my hands and wrists, marred by the marks of small burns from cook pots and flying embers, every red weal or white pucker brings to my mind's eye that eternal fire, and the writhing masses of the damned, among whom I must expect to spend eternity.
Geraldine BrooksI borrowed his brightness and used it to see my way, and then gradually, from the habit of looking at the world as he illuminated it, the light in my own mind rekindled.
Geraldine Brooks« erste vorherige
Seite 4 von 11.
nächste letzte »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.