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The rumble of the life outside was like the sound of the sea which was rising gradually around her.

Jean Rhys

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Jean Rhys
Age: 88 †
Born: 1890
Born: August 24
Died: 1979
Died: May 14
Novelist
Writer
Ella Gwendolen Rees Williams
Ella Rees Williams
Around
Life
Like
Rumble
Gradually
Rising
Sea
Outside
Sound

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Stephan was secretive and a liar, but he was a very gentle and expert lover. She was the petted, cherished child, the desired mistress, the worshipped, perfumed goddess. She was all these things to Stephan - or so he made her believe.
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I like shape very much. A novel has to have shape, and life doesn't have any.
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I sit at my window and the words fly past me like birds — with God's help I catch some.
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I am the only real truth I know.
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When you are a child you are yourself and you know and see everything prophetically. And then suddenly something happens and you stop being yourself you become what others force you to be. You lose your wisdom and your soul.
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He had discovered that people who allow themselves to be blown about by the winds of emotion and impulse are always unhappy people.
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It's so easy to make a person who hasn't got anything seem wrong.
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I've been so ridiculous all my life that a little bit more or a little bit less hardly matters now.
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Of course she had some pathetic illusions about herself or she would not be able to go on living.
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There are always two deaths, the real one and the one people know about.
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I am sad, sad as a circus-lioness.
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It is strange how sad it can be - sunlight in the afternoon, don't you think?
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We can't all be happy, we can't all be rich, we can't all be lucky - and it would be so much less fun if we were... There must be the dark background to show up the bright colours.
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The musty smell, the bugs, the lonliness, this room, which is part of the street outside-this is all I want from life.
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Age seldom arrives smoothly or quickly. It's more often a succession of jerks.
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When he talked his eyes went away from mine and then he forced himself to look straight at me and he began to explain and I knew that he felt very strange with me and that he hated me, and it was funny sitting there and talking like that, knowing he hated me.
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I didn't know, I didn't know, I didn't know.
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I want more of this feeling - fire and wings.
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But they never last, the golden days. And it can be sad, the sun in the afternoon, can't it? Yes, it can be sad, the afternoon sun, sad and frightening.
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One realized all sorts of things. The value of an illusion, for instance, and that the shadow can be more important than the substance. All sorts of things.
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