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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.

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
Frightening
Afternoon
Golden
Sun
Days
Lasts
Last
Never

More quotes by Jean Rhys

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Next week, or next month, or next year I will kill myself. But I might as well last out my month's rent, which has been paid up.
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And what does anyone know about traitors, or why Judas did what he did?
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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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If I was bound for hell, let it be hell. No more false heaven. No more damned magic.
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I found when I was a child that if I put the hurt into words, it would go.
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The rumble of the life outside was like the sound of the sea which was rising gradually around her.
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And then the days came when I was alone.
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I am the only real truth I know.
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What you take to be hyprocrisy is sometimes a certain caution, sometimes genuine, though ponderous, childish, sometimes a mixture of both.
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Only the magic and the dream are true — all the rest's a lie.
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that expression you get in your eyes when you are very tired and everything is like a dream and you are starting to know what things are like underneath what people say they are.
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Love was a terrible thing. You poisoned it and stabbed at it and knocked it down into the mud - well down - and it got up and staggered on, bleeding and muddy and awful. Like - like Rasputin.
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Now I no longer wish to be loved, beautiful, happy or successful. I want one thing and one thing only - to be left alone.
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I have arranged my little life.
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I hadn't bargained for this. I didn't think it would be like this - shabby clothes, worn-out shoes, circles under your eyes, your hair getting straight and lanky, the way people look at you. ... I didn't think it would be like this
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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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It's so easy to make a person who hasn't got anything seem wrong.
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I didn't know, I didn't know, I didn't know.
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Cold - cold as truth, cold as life. No, nothing can be as cold as life.
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I must write. If I stop writing my life will have been an abject failure. It is that already to other people. But it could be an abject failure to myself. I will not have earned death.
Jean Rhys