Just thinking of your laughter gives me courage. . .
Rosamund LuptonStichwörter: laughter family courage joy
I get up and pace the room, as if I can leave my guilt behind me. But it tracks me as I walk, an ugly shadow made by myself.
Rosamund LuptonStichwörter: guilt attitude betrayal mental-health carelessness
A selfish person can still love someone else, can't they? Even when they've hurt them and let them down.
Rosamund LuptonStichwörter: guilt grief self-realization
Surely a good therapist should produce a Dorian Gray-style portrait from under the couch so the patient can see the person they really are.
Rosamund LuptonStichwörter: self-esteem guilt mental-health self-assessment
Mum said no one has ever called me by my first name so I've always assumed that even as a baby they could tell I wasn't an Arabella, a name with loops and flourishes in black-inked calligraphy; a name that contains within it girls called Bella or Bells or Belle - so many beautiful possibilities. No, from the start I was clearly a Beatrice, sensible and unembellished in Times New Roman, with no one hiding inside.
Rosamund LuptonTodd added bourbons to the custards creams on the plate, arranging them in two neat yellow and brown rows, his annoyance expressed through the symmetry of biscuits.
Rosamund LuptonI reminded you I studied literature, didn't I? I've had an endless supply of quotations at my disposal, but they had always highlighted the inadequacy of my life rather than providing an uplifting literary score to it.
Rosamund LuptonYour coffin reached the monstrous hole. And a part of me went down into the muddy earth with you and lay down next to you and died with you.
Rosamund LuptonStichwörter: sadness death funeral
I remembered back to leo's burial and holding your hand. I was eleven and you were six, your hand soft and small in mine. As the vicar said 'in sure and certain hope of the resurrection of eternal life' you turned to me, 'I don't want sure and certain hope I want sure and certain Bee.
Rosamund LuptonStichwörter: death hope sisters funeral
When someone dies they can be any age you remember can't they ' she asked. As I tried to think of a reply she continued 'You probably think about the grown-up Tess because you were still close to her. But when I woke up I thought of her when she was three wearing a fairy skirt I'd got her in the Woolworth's and a policeman's helmet. Her wand was a wooden spoon. On the bus yesterday I imagined holding her when she was two days old. I felt the warmth of her. I remembered all her fingers clasped around my finger so tiny they didn't even meet. I remembered the shape of her head and stroking the nape of her neck till she slept. I remembered her smell. She smelled of innocence. Other times she's thirteen and so pretty that I worry for her everytime I see a man look at her. All of those Tesses is my daughter.
Rosamund LuptonStichwörter: death motherhood remembrance
Seite 1 von 8.
nächste letzte »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.