The Chimes
Quotes from the Book
Take risks! That is really what life is about. We must pursue our own happiness. Nobody has ever lived our lives; ther are no guidelines. Trust your instincts. Accept nothing but the best. But then also look for it carefully. Don't allow it to slip between your fingers. Sometimes, good things come to us in a such a quiet fashion. And nothing comes complete. It is what we make of whatever we encounter that determines the outcome. What we choose to see, what we choose to save. And what we choose to remember. Never forget that all the love in your life is there, inside you, always.
84
But once you accept the fact that you have always been alone, and will always be, then your perspective can begin to change. You can become aware of the small kindnesses, the little comforts. Be grateful for them.
32
I think that if we just listen to ourselves we know what it is we have to do . . . . And I have come o think that however much it hurts, however hard it is, we have to listen. We have to live our lives.
15
I think that if we can find the words, and if we can find someone to tell them to, then perhaps we can see things differently. But I had no words, and I had nobody. - 153
8
...when I checked the other day, I found it - my strawberry patch - overgrown and hidden under weeds, but still there...like secrets, like memories. You can make yourself believe that they have been erased. But they are there, if you look closely. If you have a wish to uncover them.
4
Perhaps we believe that anything is better than that which we all fear the most. Loneliness. Abandonment. But once you accept that fact that you have always been alone, and will always be, then your perspective can being to change. You can become aware of the small kindnesses, the little comforts. Be grateful for them. And with time you will understand that there is nothing to fear. And much to be grateful for.
3
I have stopped painting. I stand in front of the easel, brush in hand, but my mind is blank. It is as if I have been struck by a strange kind of blindness.
3
Parents have such formidable power. They can protect you from all the pain in the world. Or inflict the hardest pain of all. And as children we accept what we get. Perhaps we believe that anything is better than that which we all fear the most. Loneliness. Abandonment. But once you accept that fact that you have always been alone, and will always be, then your perspective can being to change. You can become aware of the small kindnesses, the little comforts. Be grateful for them. And with time you will understand that there is nothing to fear. And much to be grateful for. For me, the realization took a lifetime. Don't let it take you that long, Veronika. (189)
3
My life now consists of fragments where some are so blinding in their intensity that they make everything else indistinguishable. What shall I do with these glittering shards? There is no pattern; I can't make them fit. With each other, or with the whole that should be my life. It feels as if my existence was extinguished in a flash, and afterwards my universe became incomprehensible. Just shards and particles, which I carry with me wherever I go. They are sharp and they still hurt to touch. And they are so heavy. I know there is more - there are less intense fragments that I need to make it whole. I want to remember everything. But perhaps I need to give it more time. Allow myself some rest. Distance myself a little, to see if I can make out a pattern. And face the truth about what is really there.
3
My life's memories take up space with no regard to when they happened, or to their actual time span. The memories of brief incidents occupy almost all time, while years of my life have left no tract. -- spoken by Astrid
2
I think that perhaps there are no such defining moments at all. Beginnings and ends are fluid, long chains of events where some links seem so insignificant and others so very momentous, while in fact all have the same weight. What may appear as a single dramatic moment is just a link between what was before and what comes after.
2
My poor little child Karin Boye My poor child, so afraid of the dark, who has met ghosts of another kind, who always among those clad in white glimpses those with evil faces, now let me sing you gentle songs, from fright they free, from force and cramp. Of the evil they ask no repentance. Of the good they ask not for battle. See, you must know, that all that lives is deep inside of equal kind. Like trees and herbs it seeks to grow - pulled forward by its inner laws. And trees may fall and flowers wilt and branches break, their power lost, still the dream remains - awaits the call - in every living drop of sap. (205)
2
Creo que quizás no existen esos momentos que definen y delimitan. Los principios y los finales son fluidos, largas cadenas de acontecimientos donde algunos eslabones parecen insignificantes y otros trascendentales, mas en realidad todos tienen el mismo peso. Lo que puede parecer un instante dramático y único, es tan sólo un vínculo entre lo que había antes y lo que viene después.
1
I could never be sure whether he would be there when I arrived. On my way through the forest I used to pass a large granite block where I would stop, draw my breath and close my fists with my thumbs inside, then close my eyes and whisper: 'Please, please, please let him be there today,' before continuing. If he wasn't, I felt it was because I had done wrong. That somehow I had to earn the right to such pleasure.
1
I have never talked to anyone about that night. Ever...' she said. 'And now when I listen to my own words, I realise that they tell a different story from the one I have carried all these years.' The old woman closed her eyes. 'I think that if we can find the words, and if we can find someone to tell them to, then perhaps we can see things differently. But I had no words, and I had nobody.
1
There are no secrets here. Everybody knows everything about everybody. Or they would like to think they do. Secrets have to be well guarded, and the price is high.
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About Linda Olsson
About the book
Veronika 32, a writer whose boyfriend just drowned in New Zealand, rents a house in a small Swedish village next door to recluse Astrid 81. They share walks, meals, wine, and dangerous memories. Includes 11 page reader's guide for literature teachers and students.
Book details
- First published
- 2005
- Author
- Linda Olsson
- Genre
- Fiction
- Goodreads rating
- 3.77 (9k ratings)
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