cleo de cinq à sept

“There is a wind, and the flowers on the window-sill, and their shadows on the curtains, are waving. Like swans dipping their beaks in water. Like the incalculable raising its head, uselessly and wildly, for one moment, before it sinks down, beaten, into the darkness. Like skulls on long, thin necks. Plunging wildly when the wind blows to the end of the curtain, which is their nothingness. Distorting themselves as they plunge.
The musty smell, the bugs, the loneliness, this room, which is part of the street outside - this is all I want from life.”
― Jean Rhys, Good Morning, Midnight

“It was as if a curtain had fallen, hiding everything I had ever known. It was almost like being born again. The colours were different, the smells different, the feeling things gave you right down inside yourself was different. Not just the difference between heat, cold; light, darkness; purple, grey. But a difference in the way I was frightened and the way I was happy.”
― Jean Rhys, Voyage in the Dark

“When trouble comes, close ranks”
― Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea

“As she talked she was working at a patchwork counterpane. The diamond-shaped pieces of silk melted one into the other, red, blue, purple, green, yellow, all one shimmering color. Hours and hours she had spent on it and it was nearly finished. Would I be lonely? she asked and I said 'No', looking at the colors. Hours and hours and hours I thought.”
― Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea