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Men are simpler than you imagine my sweet child. But what goes on in the twisted, tortuous minds of women would baffle anyone.

Daphne du Maurier

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Daphne du Maurier
Age: 81 †
Born: 1907
Born: May 13
Died: 1989
Died: April 19
Author
Biographer
Novelist
Playwright
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
London
England
Dame Daphne du Maurier
Would
Goes
Tortuous
Men
Imagine
Baffle
Child
Baffled
Anyone
Simpler
Funny
Hilarious
Women
Twisted
Children
Minds
Mind
Sweet

More quotes by Daphne du Maurier

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Looking from the window at the fantastic light and colour of my glittering fairy-world of fact that holds no tenderness, no quietude, I long suddenly for peace, for understanding.
Daphne du Maurier
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Why did dogs make one want to cry? There was something so quiet and hopeless about their sympathy. Jasper, knowing something was wrong, as dogs always do. Trunks being packed. Cars being brought to the door. Dogs standing with drooping tails, dejected eyes. Wandering back to their baskets in the hall when the sound of the car dies away.
Daphne du Maurier
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[Referring to the birds:] Nat listened to the tearing sound of splintering wood, and wondered how many million years of memory were stored in those little brains, behind the stabbing beaks, the piercing eyes, now giving them this instinct to destroy mankind with all the deft precision of machines.
Daphne du Maurier
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Writers should be read, but neither seen nor heard.
Daphne du Maurier
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Boredom is a pleasing antidote for fear
Daphne du Maurier
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So you see, when war comes to one’s village, one’s doorstep, it isn’t tragic and impersonal any longer. It is just an excuse to vomit private hatred. That is why I am not a great patriot.
Daphne du Maurier
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If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.
Daphne du Maurier
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When she smiled it was as though she embraced the world.
Daphne du Maurier
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Once a person gave his talent to the world, the world put a stamp upon it. The talent was not a personal possession any more. It was something to be traded, bought and sold. It fetched a high price, or a low one. It was kicked in the common market.
Daphne du Maurier
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Because I want to because I must because now and forever more this is where I belong to be.
Daphne du Maurier
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The moment of crisis had come, and I must face it. My old fears, my diffidence, my shyness, my hopeless sense of inferiority, must be conquered now and thrust aside. If I failed now I should fail forever.
Daphne du Maurier
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What about the hero of The House on the Strand? What did it mean when he dropped the telephone at the end of the book? I don't really know, but I rather think he was going to be paralysed for life. Don't you?
Daphne du Maurier
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He was like someone sleeping who woke suddenly and found the world...all the beauty of it, and the sadness too. The hunger and the thirst. Everything he had never thought about or known was there before him, and magnified into one person who by chance, or fate--call it what you will--happened to be me.
Daphne du Maurier
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I wish I was a woman of about thirty-six dressed in black satin with a string of pearls.
Daphne du Maurier
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I wondered how many people there were in the world who suffered, and continued to suffer, because they could not break out from their own web of shyness and reserve, and in their blindness and folly built up a great distorted wall in front of them that hid the truth.
Daphne du Maurier
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Life was a series of greetings and farewells, one was always saying good-bye to something, to someone.
Daphne du Maurier
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here was a silence between them for a moment, and she wondered if all women, when in love, were torn between two impulses, a longing to throw modesty and reserve to the winds and confess everything, and an equal determination to conceal the love forever, to be cool, aloof, utterly detached, to die rather than admit a thing so personal, so intimate.
Daphne du Maurier
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How lacking in intuition men could be in persuading themselves that mending some stranger's socks, and attending to his comfort, could content a woman.
Daphne du Maurier
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Jem was safe from her, and he would ride away with a song on his lips and a laugh at her expense, forgetful of her, and of his brother, and of God while she dragged through the years, sullen and bitter, the stain of silence marking her, coming in the end to ridicule as a soured spinster who had been kissed once in her life and could not forget it.
Daphne du Maurier
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Women want love to be a novel, men a short story.
Daphne du Maurier