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Somehow the bright beauty had gone from April afternoon and from her heart as well and the sad sweetness of remembering was as bitter as gall.

Margaret Mitchell

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Margaret Mitchell
Age: 48 †
Born: 1900
Born: November 9
Died: 1949
Died: August 16
Author
Journalist
Novelist
Prosaist
Screenwriter
Writer
Atlanta
Georgia
Margaret Munnerlyn Mitchell
Bitter
Somehow
Beauty
Gall
Gone
April
Remember
Remembering
Wells
Sweetness
Well
Afternoon
Heart
Bright

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Oh, why was he so handsomely blond, so courteously aloof, so maddeningly boring with his talk about Europe and books and music and poetry and things that interested her not at all - and yet so desirable?
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[Yankees] are pretty much like southerners except with worse manners, of course, and terrible accents.
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I loved something I made up
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I've always had a weakness for lost causes once they're really lost.
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It was hard to believe there was so much money in all this bitter and poverty-stricken world. So much money, so very much money, and someone else had it, someone who took it lightly and didn't need it.
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It's a curse - this not wanting to look on naked realities. Until the war, life was never more real to me than a shadow show on a curtain. And I preferred it so. I do not like the outlines of things to be too sharp. I like them gently blurred, a little hazy.
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She couldn't survey the wreck of the world with an air of casual unconcern.
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The Irish are the damnedest race. They put so much emphasis on so many wrong things.
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Some mistakes are too much fun to make only once.
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There ain't nothin' from the outside can lick any of us.
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Do I understand, sir, that you mean the Cause for which our heroes have died is not sacred?' If you were run over by a railroad train your death wouldn’t sanctify the railroad company, would it?' asked Rhett and his voice sounded as if he were humbly seeking information.
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It's not because I've -what is the phrase? -'swept you off your feet' by my -er- ardor?
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Burdens are for shoulders strong enough to carry them.
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She could see so clearly now that he was only a childish fancy, no more important really than her spoiled desire for the aquamarine earbobs she had coaxed out of Gerald. For, once she owned the earbobs, they had lost their value, as everything except money lost its value once it was hers.
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. . . She knew only that if she did or said thus-and-so, men would unerringly respond with the complimentary thus-and-so. It was like a mathematical formula and no more difficult, for mathematics was the one subject that had come easy to Scarlett in her schooldays.
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He made her play and she had almost forgotten how. Life had been so serious and so bitter. He knew how to play and swept her along with him.
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The happiest days are when babies come.
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