Nelly turns away and, although it is not at all their custom, Virginia leans forward and kisses Vanessa on the mouth. It is an innocent kiss, innocent enough, but just now, in this kitchen, behind Nelly's back, it feels like the most delicious and forbidden of pleasures. Vanessa returns the kiss.
The body of the thrush is still there (odd, how the neighborhood cats and dogs are not interested), tiny even for a bird, so utterly unalive, here in the dark, like a lost glove, this little empty handful of death. [...] She thinks of how much more space a being occupies in life than it does in death; how much illusion of size is contained in gestures and movements, in breathing. Dead, we are r...
It is possible to die. Laura thinks, suddenly, of how she--how anyone--can make a choice like that. It is a reckless, vertiginous thought, slightly disembodied-- it announces itself insider her head, faintly but distinctly, like a voice crackling from a distant radio station. [...] Hotel rooms are where people do things like that, aren't they? It's possible--perhaps even likely--that someone ha...
It had seemed like the beginning of happiness, and Clarissa is sitll sometimes shocked, more than thirty years later, to realize that it WAS happiness; that the entire experience lay in a kiss and a walk, the anticipation of dinner and a book. The dinner is by now forgotten; Lessing has been long over-shadowed by other writers; and even the sex, once she and Richard reached that point, was arde...
I am trivial, endlessly trivial, she thinks. And yet. Getting uninvited feels in some way like a minor demonstration of the world's ability to get along without her. Being passed by Oliver St. Ives (who probably did not consciously exclude her but simply did not think of her at all) resembles death the way a child's shoebox diorama of a historic event resembles the event itself. It's a tiny thi...
There is no comfort, it seems, in the world of objects, and Clarissa fears that art, even he greatest of it (even Richard's three volumes of poetry and his single, unreadable novel), belong stubbornly to the world of objects.
Anaïs (失心人)
2021-02-21 10:14:21
sophieyamapi (迷信运气)
2016-05-18 00:31:34
么什叫定决能不
2014-03-31 10:11:55
么什叫定决能不
2014-03-31 09:40:35
么什叫定决能不
2014-03-31 09:30:44
么什叫定决能不
2014-03-31 09:21:15
么什叫定决能不
2014-03-31 09:15:40