British Literature - Tumblr Posts
Julius Caesar
Jane Austen
Shakespeare's sonnet
Macbeth
Sherlock Holmes dialogue
Scandal of Bohemia
Emily Brontë
Life was honestly better when we were studying British Poetry and Drama (17th-18th Century) in uni.
Anthony Andrews, Brideshead Revisited, 1980
British Manne: From the nascent thoughts of my earliest infancy, I have found the existance of women farcical and the scent of them intolerable.
Junior year English professor with two grandkids, three nose rings, and a ziggy stardust tat on her right buttcheek (ask me after class, honey) : Oh! Oh! A romantíc novelle if ever there was. The great-est love balláde of the West.
“She came out on the top. The wind ceased; the country spread wide all round her. Her body seemed to shrink; her eyes to widen.”
— Virginia Woolf, from ‘The Years’, originally published in 1937.
“[…] to protect the extraordinary feeling of happiness that still remained with her. Covered up from observation it might survive, she felt.”
— Virginia Woolf, from ‘The Years’, originally published in 1937.
“[…], her eye was brooding but inevitable.”
— D.H. Lawrence, from ‘Women In Love’, first published in 1920.
“[…]. Pity to go anywhere on this good dark night. Pity to come out of it, really. Pity we can’t stop in the good darkness. It is better than anything ever would be—this good immediate darkness.”
— D.H. Lawrence, from ‘Women In Love’, first published in 1920.
“Just after seven the rain began to fall. Gently at first, a light pattering in the trees, and so thin I could not see it. Then louder and faster, a driving torrent falling slant ways from the slate sky, […]. I left the windows open wide. I stood in front of them and breathed the cold clean air. The rain splashed into my face and on my hands. I could not see beyond the lawns, the falling rain came thick and fast. I heard it sputtering in the gutter-pipes above the window, and splashing on the stones of the terrace. There was no more thunder. The rain smelt of moss and earth and of the black bark of trees.”
— Daphne du Maurier, from “Rebecca”, first published in 1938.
“Theodore had an apparently inexhaustible fund of knowledge about everything, but he imparted this knowledge with a sort of meticulous diffidence that made you feel he was not so much teaching you something new, as reminding you of something which you were already aware of, but which had, for some reason or other, slipped your mind.”
— Gerald Durrell, from ‘My Family and Other Animals’, originally published in 1956.
“The sea was like a warm, silk coverlet that moved my body gently to and fro. There were no waves, only this gentle underwater movement, the pulse of the sea, rocking me softly.”
— Gerald Durrell, from ‘My Family and Other Animals’, first published in 1956.
"When people are happy, they have a reserve, [...], upon which to draw, whereas she was like a wheel without a tyre [...], jolted by every pebble,"
Virginia Woolf, from 'Mrs. Dalloway', first published in 1925.
“‘Time was’, he said casually, 'when you were not bored either by me or by my conversation’. 'You flatter yourself’.”
— Daphne du Maurier, from ‘Frenchman’s Creek’, first published in 1941. (via eligendo)