- 页码：第45页 2013-07-26 19:17:25
it was thus that she felt herself; and this self having shed its attachments was free for the strangest adventures. When life sank down for a moment, the range of experience seemed limitless. And to everybody there was always this sense of unlimited resources, she supposed; one after another, she, lily, augustus carmichael, must feel, our apparitions, the things you know us by, are simplychildish. Beneath it is all dark, it is all spreading, it is unfathomably deep; but now and again we rise to the surface and that is what you see us by. 46-she looked out to meet that stroke of the lighthouse, the long steady stroke, the last of the three, which was her stroke, for watching them in this mood always at this hour one could not help attaching oneself to one thing especially of the things one saw; and this thing, the steady stroke, was her stroke. Often she found herself sitting and looking, sitting and looking, with her work in her hands until she became the thing she looked at-that light for example. - I was odd, she thought, how if one was alone, one leant to things, inanimate things; trees, streams, flowers; felt they expressed one; felt they became one; felt they knew one, in a sense were one; felt an irrational tenderness thus as for oneself. There rose, and she looked and looked with her needles suspended, there curled up off the floor of the mind, rose from the lake of one's being, a mist, a bride to meet her lover. -Mrs Ramsay felt, one helped oneself out of solitude reluctantly by laying hold of some little odd or end, some sound, some sight. 51- Was it not odd, she reflected? Indeed he seemed to her sometimes made differently from other people, born blind, deaf and dumb to the ordinary things, but to the extraordinary things, with an eye like an eagle's. ... He would sit at table with them like a person in a dream. and his habit of talking aloud, or saying poetry aloud, was growing on him, she was afraid; for sometimes it was awkward- best and brightest, come away. 52- however, lily briscoe reflected, perhaps it was better not to see pictures: they only made one hopelessly discontented with one's own work. 54- Brooding, ... and cast vast clouds over this tiny world by holding her hand against the sun, and so brought darkness and desolation, like god himself, to millions of ignorant and innocent creatures, and then took her hand away suddenly and let the sun stream down. 64- what does one live for? Why, one asked oneself, does one take all these pains for the human race to go on? is it so very desirable? are we attractive as a species? not so very, he thought, looking at those rather untidey boys. His favourite, cam, was in bed, he supposed. foolish questions, vain questions, questions one never asked if one was occupied. Is human life this? is human life that? one never had time to think about it. 82- yes, that was done then, accomplished; and as with all thins done, become solemn. Now one thought of it, cleared of chatter and emotion, it seemed always to have been, only was shown now, and so being shown struck everything into stability. They would, she thought, going on again, however long they lived, come back to this night; this moon; this wind, this house: and to her too. ... Wherever they put the light there was always a shadow somewhere. 94-Here one might say to those sliding lights, those fumbling airs, that breathe and bend over the bed itself, here you can neither touch nor destroy. ... At length, desisting, all ceased together, gathered together, all sighed together; all together gave off an aimless gust of lamentation to which some door in the kitchen replied; swung wide; admitted nothing, and slammed to. The winter holds a pack of them in store and deals them equally, evenly, with indefatigable fingers. They lengthe; they darken. Almost it would appear that it is useless in such confusion to ask the night those questions as to what, and why, and wherefore, which tempt the sleeper from his bed to seek an answer. 98- The spring without a leaf to toss, bare and bright like a virgin fierce in her chastity, scornful in her purity, was laid out on fields wide-eyed and watchful and entirely careless of what was done or thought by the beholders. 103- For now had come that moment, that hesitation when dawn trembles and night pauses, when if a feather alight in the scale it will be weighed down. One feather, and the house, sinking, faling, would have turned and pitched downwards to the depths of darkness. 109- What does one sent to the lighthouse?- opened doors in one's mind that went banging and swinging to and fro and made one keep asking, in a stupefied gape: what does one send? what does one do? why is one sitting here after all? 119- Can't paint, can't write, she murmured monotonously, anxiously considering what her plan of attack should be. .... Certainly she was losing consciousness of outer things. and as she lost consciousness of outer things, and her name and her personality and her appearance, and whether mr carmichael was there or not, her mind kept throwing up from its depths, scenes, and over that glaring, hideously difficult white space, while she modelled it with greens and blues. 129- Lily thought, taking the green paint on her brush, the making up scenes about them, is what we call knowing people , thinking of them, being fond of them! Not a word of it was true; she had made it up; but it was what she knew them by all the same. 142- About here, she thought dabbling her fingers in the water, a ship had sunk, and she murmured, dreamily, half asleep, how we perished, each alone. - so much depends, upon distance: whether people are near us or far from us; for her feeling for mr ramsay changed as he sailed farther and farther across the bay. 143- Love had a thousand shapes. 144- Here sitting on the world, she thought, for she could not shake herself free from the sense that everything this morning was happening for the first time, perhaps for the last time, as a traveller, even though he is half asleep, knows, looking out of the train window, that he must look now, for he will never see that town, or that mule-cart, or that woman at work in the fields, again. 146- Half one's notions of other people were, after all, grotesque. They served private purposes of one's own.
Emanuelle对本书的所有笔记 · · · · · ·
-must let future prospects, with their joys and sorrows, cloud what is actually at hand...
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