Real love is a pilgrimage. It happens when there is no strategy, but it is very rare because most people are strategists

Anita Brookner

Aller à la citation

---

I could not, somehow, make contact with any familiar emotion. As I lingered in front of a lighted window, apparently beguiled by a pair of burgundy leather shoes, I could only identify a feeling of exclusion. I felt as if the laws of the universe no longer applied to me, since I was outside the normal frames of reference. A biological nonentity, to be phased out. And somewhere, intruding helplessly and to no avail into my consciousness, the anger of the underdog, plotting bloody revolution, plotting revenge.

Anita Brookner

Aller à la citation

---

The evening passes somehow; I watch television with Nancy, or I write. It is difficult, not having a family, and it is difficult to explain. I always go to bed early. And I am always ready for Monday morning, that time that other people dread.

Anita Brookner

Aller à la citation

---

But it was a significant exercise, for it meant that I considered myself worthy, as I had never done before. That change in my consciousness was so bewildering that I looked back on my previous life with a sort of amazed pity. That narrowness, those scruples, that prolonged childhood... I even, and this is a great test, began to consider journeys I might make, for my own pleasure, without him. I had never been to Greece and I thought I might go now, some time soon. And I knew that if I went I should enjoy it, as I had never enjoyed a journey before. Because I should have James to come back to. By the very fact of his existence, he had given the validity to my entire future.

Anita Brookner

Aller à la citation

---

That sun, that light had faded, and she had faded with them. Now she was as grey as the season itself.

Anita Brookner

Mots clés melancholy sadness grief hopelessness

Aller à la citation

---

« ; premier précédent
Page 3 de 3.

---

---