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If I was bound for hell, let it be hell. No more false heaven. No more damned magic.

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
False
Magic
Hell
Heaven
Damned
Bound
Bounds

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When I think about it, if I had to choose, I'd rather be happy than write.
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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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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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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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After all this, what happened? What happened was that, as soon as I had the slightest chance of a place to hide in, I crept into it and hid. Well, sometimes it's a fine day isn't it? Sometimes the skies are blue. Sometimes the air is light, easy to breathe. And there is always tomorrow.
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There are always two deaths, the real one and the one people know about.
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Quite like old times,' the room says.
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And what does anyone know about traitors, or why Judas did what he did?
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She had left me thirsty and all my life would be thirst and longing for what I had lost before I found it.
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Even the one moment that you thought was your eternity fades out and is forgotten and dies.
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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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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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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 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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Your red dress,’ she said, and laughed. But I looked at the dress on the floor and it was as if the fire had spread across the room. It was beautiful and it reminded me of something I must do. I will remember I thought. I will remember quite soon now.
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The feeling of Sunday is the same everywhere, heavy, melancholy, standing still.
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It's so easy to make a person who hasn't got anything seem wrong.
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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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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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