Now, Tova comes here to be alone with her thoughts, when she needs a break from being alone in her house. When even the television can’t punch through the unbearable quiet.
Thou seest how few things are, the which if a man lays hold of, he is able to live a life which flows in quiet.
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Ters köşeleri seviyorsan, seni sonuna kadar merakta bırakacak 3 kitap önerisini keşfetmeye hazır ol!
When he had thought of death before, he had thought of it either as a literary event or as the slow, quiet attrition of time against imperfect flesh. He had not thought of it as the explosion of violence upon a battlefield, as the gush of blood from the ruptured throat. He wondered at the difference between the two kinds of dying, and what the difference meant; and he found growing in him some of that bitterness he had glimpsed once in the living heart of his friend David Masters.
All I ever wanted was a normal, quiet sort
of existence.
"Are you tired?" he asked.
"Yes, and chilled, and miserable, I feel as if I had been wound up to a certain pitch-too tight-and something inside of me had snapped." She rested her head against the table upon her bare arm.
"You want to rest," he said, "and to be quiet. I'll go, I'll leave you and let you rest."
"Yes," she replied.
"What do you want to do?" he asked, throwing aside the paper. "Do you want to go out for a walk or a drive or anything? It would be a fine night to drive."
"No; I don't want to do anything but just be quiet. You go away and amuse yourself. Don't stay." "I'll go away if I must; but I shan't amuse myself. You know that I only live when I am near you."