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Rape in war is a “collective experience,” she also observes, as opposed to in peacetime, when it is individual. “Each woman helps the other, by speaking about it, airing her woes.” But, as she soon found out, the male half of the German
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“For five, perhaps ten minutes, the two luminaries confronted each other across the level land, resting on opposite edges of the world. In that singular light every little tree and shock of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, drew itself up high and pointed; the very clods and furrows in the fields seemed to stand up sharply. I felt the old pull of the earth, the solemn magic that comes out of those fields at nightfall. I wished I could be a little boy again, and that my way could end there.”
― My Ántonia
― My Ántonia
“Consideration like an angel came And whipped the offending Adam out of her; Leaving her body as a paradise To envelop and contain celestial spirits. SHAKESPEARE: Henry V”
― Felix Holt: The Radical
― Felix Holt: The Radical
“Nothing made me forget the world like reading did. Nothing made me think about the world like reading did. Nothing else filled me up. Nothing else emptied me out. Sentences and paragraphs would drift through my head like clouds.”
― Mother Mary Comes to Me
― Mother Mary Comes to Me
“For why do our thoughts turn to some gesture of a hand, the fall of a sleeve, some corner of a room on a particular anonymous afternoon, even when we are asleep, and even when we are so old that our thoughts have abandoned other business? What are all these fragments for, if not to be knit up finally?”
― Housekeeping
― Housekeeping
“When people started dying in the village, the emptiness gave her a huge canvas to work with. She has always liked to sew. So last year, she started sewing the cloth people. She’s made more than a hundred of them. They are real people. People who died.”
The bells of the church rang, and a solitary woman in a black shawl left the church and crossed the piazza. Signora Fiore was still talking. “The people who died are ‘gli spariti.’” Izzy stopped, unsure how to translate this. “‘Gli spariti,’ they’re called,” she said. “The vanished.”
“The vanished?” Ethan asked. Izzy nodded. Signora Fiore was still talking. “Some of the cloth people aren’t people who died. Like Signora Fiore’s own children. They live in Milan. Her daughter is a doctor. Her son owns a furniture store. She has sewn them because she doesn’t know when she’ll see them again.”
― The Boys
The bells of the church rang, and a solitary woman in a black shawl left the church and crossed the piazza. Signora Fiore was still talking. “The people who died are ‘gli spariti.’” Izzy stopped, unsure how to translate this. “‘Gli spariti,’ they’re called,” she said. “The vanished.”
“The vanished?” Ethan asked. Izzy nodded. Signora Fiore was still talking. “Some of the cloth people aren’t people who died. Like Signora Fiore’s own children. They live in Milan. Her daughter is a doctor. Her son owns a furniture store. She has sewn them because she doesn’t know when she’ll see them again.”
― The Boys
Sarah’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Sarah’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
2,224 books
|
261 friends
3,153 books
|
121 friends
220 books
|
219 friends
1,780 books
|
52 friends
2,527 books
|
3,414 friends
144 books
|
253 friends
318 books
|
45 friends
172 books
|
823 friends
More friends…
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