Rowena- bookworm, francophile, tea-lover, history enthusiast, gourmande and deep-thinker, with frequent feelings of wanderlust.
“He lingered in this mist. Then his thoughts, which had been diluted by the expanse of melancholy that enveloped him, returned to him and, once again active in their cohesion, struck right at his heart.”
“A debilitating sadness overwhelmed him, a sadness different from that which had seized him during the journey. The distinctive character of his fears had disappeared; they had spread out, dilated, lost their individual essence, and, in a way, left him to mingle with that indescribable melancholy exhaled from landscapes made dull by the heavy tranquility of evening.”
“Apparently they must already have talked a great deal about the subject, for they all had that intense expression on their faces of interest long stimulated. Delicately whipped by each other,all these minds were frothing. Only some intense souls sat silent. Perhaps they were trying to corporealize their daydreams, which is as difficult as to spiritualize one’s sensations.”
“You can no more paint happiness— that infusion of a higher life into ordinary life— than you can paint the circulation of blood in the veins. You can certify by the beating of the arteries that it does circulate; and by the same reasoning, I can certify the happiness of those incomprehensible beings, whose pulse I have been taking for so many years.”
“That infernal Alberte kept me awake. She had kindled a fire in my veins, and then gone away, like an arsonist who does not even turn his head to see the flames blazing behind him.”