Clarice Lispector, Near To The Wild Heart Quotes
It was darker, all she could see of him was a shadow. He was fading more and more, slipping through her hands, dead at the bottom of sleep.
Where does music go when it’s not playing?—she asked herself. And disarmed she would answer: May they make a harp out of my nerves when I die.
She felt the phrase “demand her rights” had lain inside her forever, waiting.
But she didn’t want to rest! – Her blood ran through her more slowly, its pace domesticated, like a beast that had trained its steps to fit in its cage.
Dying is something else. Dying is different to good and bad.
The steel suddenly touched her heart. Ah, jealousy, it was jealousy, the cold hand mashing her slowly, squeezing her, diminishing her soul.
Inside her it was as if death didn’t exist, as if love could weld her, as if eternity were renewal.
I can feel myself holding a child, thought Joanna. Sleep, my child, sleep, I tell you. The child is warm and I am sad.
- How does it feel to have a daughter?- At times it's like holding a warm egg in my hand.
