A worm of the book sort.
OHGOSHDARNIT! Why do my posts always have to be so fucking negative, depressive and just generally tedious and increasingly whiny. OK! I've decided against the idea of ranting on how incredibly shitty I feel, but urge you guys to check out the icon meme thingy I posted in my last entry.
Methinks it's time for another 'favourite lines from various books' post. Unfortunately I haven't read that many books this summer, so the following quotes are all from either Moab is My Washpot and Jane Eyre (which I am still reading).
Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
• Children can feel, but they cannot analyze their feelings, and if the analysis is partially effected in thought, they know not how to express the result of the process in words.
•It is a very strange sensation to inexperienced youth to feel itself quite alone in the world, cut adrift from every connexion, uncertain whether the port to which it is bound can be reached, and prevented by many impediments from returning to that sensation, the glow of pride warms it: but then the throb of fear disturds it, and fear with me became predominant when falf an hour elapsed and still I was alone.
•'You examine me, Miss Eyre,' said he: 'do you think me handsome?'
I should , If I had deliberated, have replied to this question by something conventionally vague and polite; but the answer somehow slipped from my tongue before I was aware, 'No, Sir.'
'Ah! By my word! there is something singular about you,' he said: 'you have the air of a little nonnette; quaint, quiet, grave, and simple, as you sit with your hands before you, and your eyes generally bent on the carpet (except, by the by, when they are directed piercingly to my face; as just now, for instance); and when one asks you a question, or makes a remark to which you are obliged to reply, you rap out a round rejoinder, which, if not blunt, is at least brusque. What do you mean by it?'
'Sir, I was too plain: I beg your pardon. I ought to have replied that it was not easy to give an impromptu answer to a question about appearances; that tastes mostly differ; and that beauty is of little consequence, or something of the sort.'
•I had hardly ever seen a handsome youth; never in my life spoken to one. I had a theoretical reverence and homage for beauty, elegance, gallantry, fascination; but had I met those qualities incarnate in masculine shape, I should have known instinctively thet they neither had nor could have sympathy with anything in me, and should have shunned them as one would fire, lightning or anything else that is bright but antipathetic.
•'You look very much puzzled, Miss Eyre: and though you are not pretty any more than I am handsome, yet a puzzled air becomes you; besides it is convenient; for it keeps those searching eyes of yours away from my physiognomy, and busies them with the worsted flowers of the rug; so puzzle on. Young lady, I am disposed to be gregarious and communicative to-night.'
This last one just made me giggle.
FUCK EDWARD CULLEN, GET ME ROCHESTER.
Moab is my Washpot - Stephen by bottom is a treasure house Fry
•Well I don't know about you, but when I recall childhood painm I don't recall the pains of toothache, a thrashed backside, broken bones, snubbed toes, gashed knees or twisted ankles- I recall the pains of loneliness, boredom, abandonement, humiliation, rejection and fear. Those are the pains on which I might and, still sometimes do, dwell, and those pains, almost without exception, were inflicted on me by other children and by myself.
•It is a cliche that most cliches are true, but then like most cliches, that cliche is untrue. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will always hurt m. Bones mend and become actually stronger in the very place they were broken and where the have knitted up; mental wounds can grind and ooze for decades and be re-opened by the quietest whisper.
•Sex has a point, in terms of relief and, sometimes procreation, but love, like all art, as Oscar said, is quite useless. It is the useless things that make life worth living and that make life dangerous too: wine, love, art, beauty. Without them life is safe but not worth bothering with.