7 Quotes by Dorothy Strachey
- Author Dorothy Strachey
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How hard it is to kill hope! Time after time, one thinks one has trodden it down, stamped it to death. Time after time, like a noxious insect, it begins to stir again, it shivers back again into a faint tremulous life. Once more it worms its way into one's heart, to instil its poison, to gnaw away the solid hard foundations of life and leave in their place the hollow phantom of illusion.
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- Author Dorothy Strachey
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I was with her, beside her, for ever close to her, in that infinitely lovely, infinitely distant star, which shed its mingled rays of sorrow, affection and renouncement on the dark cold world below.
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- Author Dorothy Strachey
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And still, do what I would, hope came to interfere with my thoughts, my resolves. How hard it is to kill hope!
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I understand,” I cried to myself, “I understand at last. Life, life, life, this is life, full to overflowing with every ecstasy and every agony. It is mine, mine to hug, to exhaust, to drain.
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- Author Dorothy Strachey
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I have often wondered what share Racine had in lighting the flame that began to burn in my heart that night, or what share proximity. If she hadn’t read just that play or if she hadn’t called me up by chance to sit so near her, in such immediate contact, would the inflammable stuff which I carried so unsuspectingly within me have remained perhaps outside the radius of the kindling spark and never caught fire at all? But probably not; sooner or later, it was bound to happen.
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- Author Dorothy Strachey
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And then in a whisper, she added, so low that I could hardly hear it: “Je t’aime bien, mon enfant.” Her voice broke and sank and then, lower still, she added, “Plus que tu ne crois.” With that she was gone. The door shut and I was alone.
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- Author Dorothy Strachey
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It was to me she was reading. I knew it. Yes, I understood, but no one else did. Once more that sense of profound intimacy, that communion beyond the power of words or caresses to bestow, gathered me to her heart. I was with her, beside her, for ever close to her, in that infinitely lovely, infinitely distant star, which shed its mingled rays of sorrow, affection and renouncement on the dark cold world below.
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