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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
Days
Lasts
Last
Never
Frightening
Afternoon
Golden
Sun

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It was the darkness that got you. It was heavy darkness, greasy and compelling. It made walls round you, and shut you in so that you felt like you could not breathe.
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There is no doubt that running away on a fresh, blue morning can be exhilarating.
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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 want more of this feeling - fire and wings.
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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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Life if curious when reduced to its essentials
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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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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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...I know all about myself now, I know. You've told me so often. You haven't left me one rag of illusion to clothe myself in.
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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 am the only real truth I know.
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Soon he'll come in again and kiss me, but differently. He'll be different and so I'll be different. It'll be different. I thought, 'It'll be different, different. It must be different.
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And what does anyone know about traitors, or why Judas did what he did?
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You can pretend for a long time, but one day it all falls away and you are alone. We are alone in the most beautiful place in the world.
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Cold - cold as truth, cold as life. No, nothing can be as cold as 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 sit at my window and the words fly past me like birds — with God's help I catch some.
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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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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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Age seldom arrives smoothly or quickly. It's more often a succession of jerks.
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