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Kate Chopin

The Awakening

  • annAцитируетв прошлом году
    “You are burnt beyond recognition,” he added, looking at his wife as one looks at a valuable piece of personal property which has suffered some damage.
  • TaeTaeцитирует3 года назад
    She missed him the days when some pretext served to take him away from her, just as one misses the sun on a cloudy day without having thought much about the sun when it was shining.
  • TaeTaeцитирует3 года назад
    Their absence was a sort of relief, though she did not admit this, even to herself. It seemed to free her of a responsibility which she had blindly assumed and for which Fate had not fitted her.
  • TaeTaeцитирует3 года назад
    At a very early period she had apprehended instinctively the dual life⁠—that outward existence which conforms, the inward life which questions.
  • TaeTaeцитирует3 года назад
    Mrs. Pontellier liked to sit and gaze at her fair companion as she might look upon a faultless Madonna.
  • TaeTaeцитирует3 года назад
    He had lived in her shadow during the past month.
  • TaeTaeцитирует3 года назад
    Robert and Mrs. Pontellier sitting idle, exchanging occasional words, glances or smiles which indicated a certain advanced stage of intimacy and camaraderie.
  • TaeTaeцитирует3 года назад
    A characteristic which distinguished them and which impressed Mrs. Pontellier most forcibly was their entire absence of prudery. Their freedom of expression was at first incomprehensible to her, though she had no difficulty in reconciling it with a lofty chastity which in the Creole woman seems to be inborn and unmistakable.
  • TaeTaeцитирует3 года назад
    They were women who idolized their children, worshiped their husbands, and esteemed it a holy privilege to efface themselves as individuals and grow wings as ministering angels.
  • TaeTaeцитирует3 года назад
    An indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul’s summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood.
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