She could give herself up to the written word as naturally as a good dancer to music or a fine swimmer to water. The only difficulty was that after finishing the last sentence she was left with a feeling at… — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
For the first time she had dimly realized that only the hopeless are starkly sincere and that only the unhappy can either give or take sympathy--even some of the bitter and dangerous voluptuousness of misery. — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
Of course she had some pathetic illusions about herself or she would not be able to go on living. — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
As soon as I turned the key I saw it hanging, the color of fire and sunset. the colour of flamboyant flowers. ‘If you… — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
Human beings are struggling, and so they are egoists. But it's wrong to say that they are wholy cruel - it's a deformed view. — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
“THe room was large and low-ceilinged, the striped wallpaper faded to inoffensiveness. A huge dark wardrobe faced a huge dark bed. The rest of… — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
There is no doubt that running away on a fresh, blue morning can be exhilarating. — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
Blot out the moon, Pull down the stars. Love in the dark, for we're for the dark So soon, so soon. — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
“But in the daytime it was all right. And when you'd had a drink you knew it was the best way to live in… — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
Everything tender and melancholy - as life is sometimes, just for one moment. — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
“You are walking along a road peacefully. You trip. You fall into blackness. That's the past - or perhaps the future. And you know… — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
“She spent the foggy day in endless, aimless walking, for it seemed to her that if she moved quickly enough she would escape the… — Jean Rhys Copy Share Image
