Colleen McCullough · 189 pages
Rating: (3.3K votes)
“...she looked like the sort of woman most men would want to get to know because they weren't sure what went on inside.”
― Colleen McCullough, quote from The Ladies of Missalonghi
“You just hang onto the thought that every dog has its day, even the bitches”
― Colleen McCullough, quote from The Ladies of Missalonghi
“Suddenly the thought that the end of her life was imminent shocked him; it was one thing to pity someone he didn't know, quite another to face the same dilemma with someone he knew intimately. That was the trouble with beds. They turned strangers into intimates more quickly than ten years of polite teas in parlours.”
― Colleen McCullough, quote from The Ladies of Missalonghi
“Best of all she liked his eyes, such a translucent golden brown, and so laughing.”
― Colleen McCullough, quote from The Ladies of Missalonghi
“Ir iš tiesų netrukus tekančio vandens šniokštimas pamažu nustelbė visur aplinkui šlamančius medžius, tyliai kalbančius vieni su kitais alsia, gailia šneka, kokia ramiomis dienomis prabyla eukaliptai.”
― Colleen McCullough, quote from The Ladies of Missalonghi
Colleen McCullough
Born place: in Wellington, New South Wales, Australia
Born date June 1, 1937
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“She merely wiped the floor with paper towels and said nothing, brushing her free hand against my shoulder blade—my shoulder blade!—as she carried the soaked paper to the trash can, never holding me fast, refraining not out of lack of humanity but out of fear of being drawn into a request for further tenderness, a request that could only bring her face-to-face with some central revulsion, a revulsion of her husband or herself or both, a revulsion that had come from nowhere, or from her, or perhaps from something I’d done or failed to do, who knew, she didn’t want to know, it was too great a disappointment, far better to get on with the chores, with the baby, with the work, far better to leave me to my own devices, as they say, to leave me to resign myself to certain motifs, to leave me to disappear guiltily into a hole of my own digging. When the time came to stop her from leaving, I did not know what to think or wish for, her husband who was now an abandoner, a hole-dweller, a leaver who had left her to fend for herself, as she said, who’d failed to provide her with the support and intimacy she needed, she complained, who was lacking some fundamental wherewithal, who no longer wanted her, who beneath his scrupulous marital motions was angry, whose sentiments had decayed into a mere sense of responsibility, a husband who, when she shouted, “I don’t need to be provided for! I’m a lawyer! I make two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year! I need to be loved!” had silently picked up the baby and smelled the baby’s sweet hair, and had taken the baby for a crawl in the hotel corridor, and afterward washed the baby’s filthy hands and soft filthy knees, and thought about what his wife had said, and saw the truth in her words and an opening, and decided to make another attempt at kindness, and at nine o’clock, with the baby finally drowsy in his cot, came with a full heart back to his wife to find her asleep, as usual, and beyond waking.
In short, I fought off the impulse to tell Rachel to go fuck herself.”
― Joseph O'Neill, quote from Netherland
“The cell phone in my pocket went off. Shit! Damn it! Why do I carry these infernal gadgets? Why does anybody in their right mind need to constantly be on call?”
― James Patterson, quote from Violets Are Blue
“Adam había sacado la conclusión que, de todas las industrias del país, la reparación de vespas era la que representaba una mayor sobredemanda respecto a la oferta. En teoría, a quien se dispusiese a satisfacer esa demanda le esperaba una fortuna; pero en el fondo de su corazón Adam dudaba de que las vespas fuesen reparables, en el sentido normal del término; eran las mariposas de la carretera, organismos frágiles que tardaban mucho en ser fabricados y muy poco en morir.”
― David Lodge, quote from The British Museum Is Falling Down
“Beyond a given point man is not helped by more “knowing,” but only by living and doing in a partly self-forgetful way. As Goethe put it, we must plunge into experience and then reflect on the meaning of it. All reflection and no plunging drives us mad; all plunging and no reflection, and we are brutes.”
― Ernest Becker, quote from The Denial of Death
“is asked of us in our time,’ the writer said, ‘is that we break open our blocked caves and find each other. Nothing less will heal the anguished spirit, nor release the heart to act in love.”
― Jan Karon, quote from A Light in the Window
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