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The Goldfinch
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With mahogany in particular, it's so tightly grained
by Donna Tartt
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The Goldfinch
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Donna Tartt
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Donna Tartt
...my head in the rainclouds, my heart in the sky.
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. . . it is a glory and a privilege to love what Death doesn't touch.
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More than anything I was relieved that in my unfamiliar babbling-and-wanting-to-talk state I'd stopped myself from blurting the thing I'd never said, even though it was something we both knew well enough without me saying out loud to him in the street - which was, of course, I love you.
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And-maybe it's ridiculous to go on in this vein, although it doesn't matter since no one's ever going to see this-but does it make any sense at all to know that it ends badly for all of us, even the happiest of us, and that we all lose everything that matters in the end-and yet to know as well, despite all this, as cruelly as the game is stacked, that it's possible to play it with a kind of joy?
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I would be less frightened of death {not just my own death but Welty's death, Andy's death, Death in general} if I thought a familiar person came to meet us at the door
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We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves. -FRANÇOIS DE LA ROCHEFOUCAULD
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The most devoid of life and more sterile on the face of the earth, with the uninterrupted dream of years and years covering its loneliness, continues to keep the emotion of a powerful passion in its quiet head.
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People seemed to me to fill life with shadows that should not be there.
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