I remember weeping... at the silence, the stillness, the turning passages and cluttered walls. I supposed then that those things would be strange to me for ever, I felt their strangeness making me strange--make me a thing of points and hooks, a burr, a splinter in the gullet of the house.
Sarah WatersI'll burn myself, or I'll cut myself. For a burn or a cut might be shown, might be nursed, might scar or heal, would be a miserable kind of emblem; would anyway be there, on the surface of her body, rather than corroding it from within. Now the thought came to her again, that she might scar herself in some way. It came, like the solution to a problem: I won't be doing it like some hysterical girl. I won't be hoping she'll come catch me at it. It won't be like lying on the sitting-room floor. I'll be doing it for myself, as a secret.
Sarah WatersWords, hmm? They seduce us in darkness, and the mind clothes and fashions them to fashions of its own.
Sarah WatersI have some knowledge of the time that may be misspent, clinging to fictions and supposing them truths.
Sarah WatersTricky was a plain-faced man with a very handsome voice - a voice like the sound of a clarinet, at once liquid and penetrating, and lovely to listen to.
Sarah WatersTags: description voice clarinet
Now she has turned up, saying all the things I dreamed she'd say.
Sarah WatersI should have been sorry for her, at any other time; but for now if they had laid her and ten more ladies like her down upon the floor and told me my way out was across their backs, I'd have run it with clogs on.
Sarah WatersYou smell,' she began, slowly and wonderingly, 'like -'
'Like a herring!'I said bitterly. My cheeks were hot now and very red; there were tears, almost, in my eyes. I think she saw my confusion and was sorry for it.
'Not at all like a herring,' she said gently.'But perhaps, maybe, like a mermaid...
Mr Bliss looked grave. 'Your brother was very sensible to warn you, Miss Astley - but sadly misinformed. There are no trams in Trafalgur Square - only buses and hansoms, and broughams like our own. Trams are for common people; you should have to go quite as far as Kilburn, I'm afraid, or Camden Town, in order to by struck by a tram
Sarah WatersOh, for shame! Nancy, have you never seen Florrie's face in a chrysanthemum, or a rose?'
'Never.' I said. 'Though there was a flounder for sale on a fishmonger's barrow, in Whitechapel yesterday, and the likeness was quite uncanny. I very nearly brought it home...
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