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I would not be young again, if you offered me the world. But then I'm prejudiced.' 'You talk,' I said, 'as if you were ninety-nine.' 'For a woman I very nearly am,' she said. 'I'm thirty five.
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
Young
Ninety
Would
Offered
World
Nearly
Thirty
Nine
Five
Talk
Woman
Prejudiced
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From the very first, I knew that it would be so...I smiled to myself, and said, That -- and none other.
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She knew that this was happiness, this was living as she had always wished to live.
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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.
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It wouldn't make for sanity would it, living with the devil.
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I wondered why it was that places are so much lovelier when one is alone.
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Living as we do in an age of noise and bluster, success is now measured accordingly. We must all be seen, and heard, and on the air.
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And I don't like books which are full of name dropping.
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You had to endure something yourself before it touched you.
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…you guessed that somewhere, in heaven knew what country and what guise, there was someone who was part of your body and your brain, and that without him you were lost, a straw blown by the wind.
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But luxury has never appealed to me, I like simple things, books, being alone, or with somebody who understands.
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People who mattered could not take the humdrum world. But this was not the world, it was enchantment and all of it was mine.
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I wish I was a woman of about thirty-six dressed in black satin with a string of pearls.
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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.
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He lacked tenderness he was rude and he had more than a streak of cruelty in him he was a thief and a liar. He stood for everything she feared and hated and despised but she knew she could love him... This was no choice made with the mind.
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A familiar name on its own, however, does not carry its bearer far unless the talent is there, and the will to work.
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People who travel are always fugitives.
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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.
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A dreamer, I walked enchanted, and nothing held me back.
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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.
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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.
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