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What was she thinking? Updates # 5 - 10

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Joshua What was she thinking? – Update #5
Chapter 7

Striking & Powerful Quote:
One pretends that manners are the formalisation of basic kindness and consideration, but a great deal of the time they're simply aesthetics dressed up as a moral principles. – pg.110

Word-Image:
Sometimes, when I lie in bed at night, I can lose all sense of my body, my age. In the darkness, I could be twenty years old. I could be ten. It's a lovely sensation to slough off one's battered old casing for a moment or two. –pg.96

Sound-Image:
I was so confident that there wouldn't be a problem. I kept saying to them, 'No, you're wrong.' But obviously they weren't. –pg.96

Haiku:
Empty thawing jar
Reflection sparkling through
the floor, rippling.


What was she thinking? – Update #6
Chapter 7 - 9

Striking & Powerful Quote:
If there's no one to witness her patience and kindness, she finds herself too weary to tackle Polly's sullen mystery: "I sit there, " she says, "summoning up the energy to make some jolly assay at conversation, and then I just slump, thinking, Bugger it. Let her stew." – pg.145

Word-Image:
"There's a rhythm to married life, an ebb and flow in the pleasure that a couple take in one another. The rhythm varies from couple to couple. For some couples, the seesaw of affections takes place over a week. For others, the cycle is lunar. But all couples sense this about their life together - the way in which their interest in one another builds up and recedes." – pg.139

Sound-Image:
( There is, I see now, such a thing as the tyranny of the humble person–the person who nods and watches quietly while you babble and show off and shout too loudly and generally make a fool of yourself. – pg.149 )
Haiku:
Their bodies bathe with
toxic ecstacy. An af-
fair that smells so sweet.

Forbidden love has
price to pay. Bonds are broken.
Shadow casts your soul.


What was she thinking? – Update #7
Chapter 10 + 11

Striking & Powerful Quote:
"No. I can't tell you why I'm doing this. That's what I'm saying. I don't know. That's sort of the point of these kinds of experiences, isn't it? That they can't be reduced? There have to be some mysteries–I don't mean holy moly ones, but mysteries of human behaviour–that can't be fathomed." – pg.172

Word-Image:
"... Being in love is a condition, isn't it? It's like being depressed. Or like being in a cult. You're basically underwater – people can talk to you about life on dry land, but it doesn't really mean anything . . ." – pg.170

Sound-Image:
'This is madness,' she remembers thinking when she was finally inside, alone. 'Completely bloody madness.' But she had muttered this, or something similar, to herself so many times in recent months that the sentiment no longer held much conviction. –pg.156
"I know this is indefensible behaviour, Barbara. I just have to do it. I want to do it." –pg.172

Haiku:
Enslaving. Drowning.
Pulls you down like gravity.
Love. Lust. Fantasy.


What was she thinking? – Update #8
Chapter 12 + 13

Striking & Powerful Quote:
"You think my children are my immortality? They're not me, you know. And, if life is meaningless, bearing children is just giving birth to more meaningless . . ." – pg.196

There are certain people in whom you can detect the seeds of madness– seeds that have remained dormant only because the people in question have lived relatively comfortable, middle-class lives. They function perfectly well in the world, but you can imagine given a nasty parent, or a prolonged bout of unemployment, how their potential for craziness might have been realised– how their seeds might have sprouted little green shoots of weirdness, or even, with the right sort of antinurture, blossomed into full-blown lunacy. – pg.203

Word-Image:
The proud, ironic creature whom I had shared my life for twelve years was transforming before my eyes into a cringing, humourless moggy. Every day, she grew more desiccated. –pg.183

Sound-Image:
Although, because mourning–even for dumb animals–is never the focused, unadultered business we pretend it to be, my tears were only partly for Portia. Once the engine of grief was revved up, it began ranging, as grief tends to, about the crowded territory of my other discontents and regrets. –pg.207

Haiku:
Solitarity.
Being alone is the worst
Worst thing in the world.

Time has decayed her.
Her body. Her soul. Deprived
from real happiness.


What was she thinking? – Update #9
Chapter 14

Striking & Powerful Quote:
Some people live in constant fear of having their secrets found out; others have a kind of arrogant certainty that anything they wish to keep private will remain so. – pg.220

Word-Image:
"Oh, it's going to be all right. She's just in state. Ten years from now , we'll remember this as a stage." –pg.210

Sound-Image:
'Tell her the truth,' I ordered myself. 'Tell her what you did.' . . . 'Too late, now. Can't go back.' –pg.212

Haiku:
Nothing lasts forever.
The question is how long does
it last. A lifetime?


What was she thinking? – Update #10
Chapter 15 - 18

Striking & Powerful Quote:
Of course, memory is not really as obedient a faculty as that. You can't consciously decide what is going to adhere. Certain things may strike you at the time as memorable, but memory only laughs at your presumption. 'Oh, I'm never going to forget this,' you say to yourself when you visit the Sacre-Coeur at sunset. And years later, when you try to summon up an image of Sacre-Coeur, it's as cold and abstract as if you'd only ever seen it on a postcard. – pg.253

Word-Image:
"You have such delusions of grandeur, don't you? It's fascinating. You actually think you're somebody. Listen. Let me tell you something. You're nothing. A bitter old virgin from Eastbourne. You aren't fit to shine Richard's shoes." –pg.251

Sound-Image:
It was electrifying, she says, to have a stranger shouting commands at her in her own house. –pg.238

Haiku:
Lost in the darkness.
Suffocated from her sins.
Piercing through her soul.

Nothing lasts forever.
The question is how long does
it last. A lifetime?

Lifetime of suf'ring?
Love? Fantasy? Lies? Found a
friend of the lifetime.


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