Kelly

http://www.shouldacouldawouldabooks.com

Kelly’s Bookshelves

read‎ (1002)
currently-reading‎ (0)
to-read‎ (1204)
fiction‎ (719)
owned‎ (456)
21st-century‎ (311)
examined-lives‎ (231)
20th-century-postwar-to-late‎ (224)
brit-lit‎ (207)
fantasy-and-scifi‎ (184)
its-the-quiet-ones‎ (163)
20th-century-early-to-mid‎ (161)

history‎ (144)
romantical‎ (129)
the-continent‎ (119)
worlds-lost-dead-and-dying‎ (117)
great-and-terrible-men‎ (106)
grand-opera‎ (103)
identity-crisis‎ (100)
19th-century‎ (95)
goth-goth-baby‎ (95)
cultural-meetings‎ (93)
tres-francais‎ (92)
philosophy-theory-criticism‎ (89)

woundedsoulsandfragileflowers‎ (87)
melancholia‎ (84)
shes-quite-an-original-my-dear‎ (73)
grande-dames‎ (70)
coming-soon-to-a-blog-near-you‎ (67)
international-affairs‎ (67)
forandbecauseofgradschool‎ (61)
mawwiageiswhatbringsustogethertoday‎ (56)
current-affairs-and-politics‎ (50)
theonewithacrushontheprofessor‎ (46)
regency‎ (45)
wits-and-fools‎ (45)

favorites‎ (44)
1500-1700‎ (38)
theatre‎ (38)
life-of-a-teacher‎ (37)
history-british‎ (34)
did-not-finish‎ (33)
victorian‎ (31)
18th-century‎ (30)
vita-virginia-violet-and-kindred‎ (26)
mare-nostrum‎ (23)
imperialism‎ (22)
truly-dreadful‎ (22)

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“Books say: She did this because. Life says: She did this. Books are where things are explained to you; life is where things aren't. I'm not surprised some people prefer books. Books make sense of life. The only problem is that the lives they make sense of are other people's lives, never your own.”
― Julian Barnes, Flaubert's Parrot

tags: books, life

519 likes

“It wasn't only wickedness and scheming that made people unhappy, it was confusion and misunderstanding; above all, it was the failure to grasp the simple truth that other people are as real as you.”
― Ian McEwan, Atonement

1106 likes

“If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive.”
― Audre Lorde

1994 likes

“People speak because they are afraid of silence. They speak mechanically whether aloud or to themselves. They are intoxicated by this vocal gruel that ensnares every object and every being. They talk about rain and fine weather; they talk about money, about love, about nothing. And even when they are talking about their most exalted love, they use words uttered a hundred times, threadbare phrases.”
― Andrei Makine

57 likes

“An offering for the sake of offering, perhaps. Anyhow, it was her gift. Nothing else had she of the slightest importance; could not think, write, even play the piano. She muddled Armenians and Turks; loved success; hated discomfort; must be liked; talked oceans of nonsense: and to this day, ask her what the Equator was, and she did not know.

All the same, that one day should follow another; Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday; that one should wake up in the morning; see the sky; walk in the park; meet Hugh Whitbread; then suddenly in came Peter; then these roses; it was enough. After that, how unbelievable death was!-that it must end; and no one in the whole world would know how she had loved it all; how, every instant . . .”
― Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

tags: interiority, subjectivity, women

138 likes

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