Had she not created even him? Perhaps for that he never forgave her, but hated her and fought her secretly, and dominated her and oppressed her and kept her locked in houses and her feet bound and her waist tied, and forbade her wages and skills and learning, and widowed her when she was dead, and burned her sometimes to ashes, pretending that it was her faithfulness that did it.
Pearl S. BuckAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist
- Nationality: american
- Born: June 6, 1892
- Died: March 6, 1973
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Our lack of originality is something we usefully forget as we hunch over our—to us—ever-fascinating lives. My friend M., leaving his wife for a younger woman, used to complain, “People tell me it’s a clich. But it doesn’t feel like a clich to me.” Yet it was, and is. As all our lives would prove, if we could see them from a greater distance—from the viewpoint, say, of that higher creature imagined by Einstein.
Julian Barnes
spring is super in the supermarketsand the strawberries prance and glownever mind that they're all kinda tart and tastelessas strawberries gomeanwhile wild things are not for saleanymore than they are for showso i'll be outside, in love with the kind of beautyit takes more than eyes to know
Ani DiFranco