René Quotes in Good Morning, Midnight
He takes my hand in his and looks at my ring, his eyes narrowing.
‘No good,’ I say. ‘Only worth about fifty francs—if that.’
‘What, your hand?’
‘You weren’t looking at my hand, you were looking at my ring.’
‘Oh, how suspicious she is, this woman! It’s extraordinary. But you will come this evening, won’t you ?’
‘Oh no, not yet, not yet. When I ask her for something it’ll be something. But one mustn’t do that too quickly, of course. She must be ready....She’s nearly ready. I think perhaps tomorrow she’ll be ready.’
He looks straight into my eyes all the time he is talking, with that air of someone defying you.
‘Then what are you afraid of? Tell me. I’m interested. Of men, of love?...What, still?...Impossible.’
You are walking along a road peacefully. You trip. You fall into blackness. That’s the past—or perhaps the future. And you know that there is no past, no future, there is only this blackness, changing faintly, slowly, but always the same.
I have my arms round him and I begin to laugh, because I am so happy. I stand there hugging him, so terribly happy. Now everything is in my arms on this dark landing—love, youth, spring, happiness, everything I thought I’d lost. I was a fool, wasn’t I? to think all that was finished for me. How could it be finished?
René Quotes in Good Morning, Midnight
He takes my hand in his and looks at my ring, his eyes narrowing.
‘No good,’ I say. ‘Only worth about fifty francs—if that.’
‘What, your hand?’
‘You weren’t looking at my hand, you were looking at my ring.’
‘Oh, how suspicious she is, this woman! It’s extraordinary. But you will come this evening, won’t you ?’
‘Oh no, not yet, not yet. When I ask her for something it’ll be something. But one mustn’t do that too quickly, of course. She must be ready....She’s nearly ready. I think perhaps tomorrow she’ll be ready.’
He looks straight into my eyes all the time he is talking, with that air of someone defying you.
‘Then what are you afraid of? Tell me. I’m interested. Of men, of love?...What, still?...Impossible.’
You are walking along a road peacefully. You trip. You fall into blackness. That’s the past—or perhaps the future. And you know that there is no past, no future, there is only this blackness, changing faintly, slowly, but always the same.
I have my arms round him and I begin to laugh, because I am so happy. I stand there hugging him, so terribly happy. Now everything is in my arms on this dark landing—love, youth, spring, happiness, everything I thought I’d lost. I was a fool, wasn’t I? to think all that was finished for me. How could it be finished?
