"I'll always remember this," he continued, his voice trembling a little-"this summer day with you.It"s been just what I expected. You're just what I expected,Lois."
"I'm awfully glad, Kieth."
"You see, when you were littlr they kept sending me snp-shots of you, first as a baby and then as a child in socks playing on the beach with a pail and shovel, an then suddenly as a wistful little girl with wondering, pure eyes - and I used to build dreams about you. A man has to have something living to cling to. I think, Lois, it was your litte white soul I tried to keep near me - even when life was at its loudest and every intellectual idea of God seemed the sheerest mockery, and desire and love and a million things came up to me and said:'Look here at me! See, I'm life. You're turing your back o... (查看原文)
All life is just a progression toward, and then a recession from, one phrase—‘I love you.’
“And courage to me meant ploughing through that dull gray mist that comes down on life—not only over- riding people and circumstances but overriding the bleakness of living. A sort of insistence on the value of life and the worth of transient things.” (查看原文)
“Poor gauzy souls trying to express ourselves in something tangible. Marcia with her written book; I with my unwritten ones. Trying to choose our mediums and then taking what we get— and being glad.”
March mellowed into April. May read a gorgeous riot act to the parks and waters of Manhatten, and they were very happy. Horace, who had no habits whatsoever—he had never had time to form any—proved the most adaptable of husbands, and as Marcia entirely lacked opinions on the subjects that engrossed him there were very few jottings and bumping. Their minds moved in different spheres. Marcia acted as practical factotum, and Horace lived either in his old world of abstract ideas or in a sort of triumphantly earthy worship and adoration of his wife. She was a continual source of astonishment to h... (查看原文)
