here was a silence between them for a moment, and she wondered if all women, when in love, were torn between two impulses, a longing to throw modesty and reserve to the winds and confess everything, and an equal determination to conceal the love forever, to be cool, aloof, utterly detached, to die rather than admit a thing so personal, so intimate.
Daphne du MaurierTags: love
She's dearer than life itself, that's all I know.
Daphne du MaurierWhat was the point of having a man if all he could do was turn his back and sleep? Not that she wanted him to do anything else, but in a way it was an insult. The turned back reminded her of all the various backs that had not been turned. Which was a depressing thought, because it meant she was beginning to live in the past.
Backs That Were Never Turned. The Reminisces of Maria Delaney...No, it was not depressing. It was funny.
People who mattered could not take the humdrum world. But this was not the world, it was enchantment; and all of it was mine.
Daphne du MaurierI wish I was a woman of about thirty-six dressed in black satin with a string of pearls.
Daphne du MaurierI could not ask for forgiveness for something I had not done. As scapegoat, I could only bear the fault.
Daphne du MaurierI could fight with the living but I could not fight the dead. If there was some woman in London that Maxim loved, someone he wrote to, visited, dined with, slept with, I could fight her. We would stand on common ground. I should not be afraid. Anger and jealousy were things that could be conquered. One day the woman would grow old or tired or different, and Maxim would not love her anymore. But Rebecca would never grow old. Rebecca would always be the same. And she and I could not fight. She was too strong for me.
Daphne du MaurierTags: rebecca daphne-du-maurier
Little notes, scrawled on half-sheets of paper, and letters, when he was away, page after page, intimate, their news. Her voice, echoing through the house, and down the garden, careless and familiar like the writing in the book.
And I had to call him Maxim.
There is no going back in life, no return, no second chance. I cannot call back the spoken word or the accomplished deed.
Daphne du MaurierI would not be young again, if you offered me the world. But then I'm prejudiced.'
'You talk,' I said, 'as if you were ninety-nine.'
'For a woman I very nearly am,' she said. 'I'm thirty five.
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