All she wanted was a breathing space in which to hurt.
Margaret MitchellTag: hurt emotions tears space breathing
Scarlett kicked the coverlet in impotent rage, trying to think of something bad enough to say.
'God's nightgown!' she cried at last, and felt somewhat relieved.
Tag: rage god bad nightgown impotent
The whole world can't lick us but we can lick ourselves by longing too hard for things we haven't got any more - and by remembering too much.
Margaret MitchellTag: world impossible longing remembering lick
But she knew that no matter what beauty lay behind, it must remain there. No one could go forward with a load of aching memories.
Margaret MitchellTag: past beauty memories aching
To hear them talk one would have thought they had no legs, natural functions or knowledge of the wicked world.
Margaret MitchellYou should be kissed and often, by someone who knows how.
Margaret MitchellWhy, my goodness, honey. After looking at all those pictures of seraphic and perspirationless babes for so long in the privacy of a foxhole, what is a poor doughfoot going to do when he comes home and discovers that American women are, after all, biological and given, under stress, to shiny noses?
Margaret MitchellTag: humor truth women body-image
And that lack of fear has gotten me into a lot of trouble and cost me a lot of happiness. God intended women to be timid frightened creatures and there's something unnatural about a woman who isn't afraid... Scarlett, always save something to fear—even as you save something to love...
Margaret MitchellWell, this is the reason. We bow to the inevitable. We're not wheat, we're buckwheat! When a storm comes along it flattens ripe wheat because it's dry and can't bend with the wind. But ripe buckwheat's got sap in it and it bends. And when the wind has passed, it springs up almost as straight and strong as before. We aren't a stiff-necked tribe. We're mighty limber when a hard wind's blowing, because we know it pays to be limber. When trouble comes we bow to the inevitable without any mouthing, and we work and we smile and we bide our time. And we play along with lesser folks and we take what we can get from them. And when we're strong enough, we kick the folks whose necks we've climbed over. That, my child, is the secret of the survival.
Margaret Mitchellذات يوم سوف أفعل وأقول كل ما أريد فعله وقوله، وإذا لم يستحسن الناس ذلك فإنى لن أبالى.
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