Gone with the Wind. Volume 2

ta muallif kitobidan iqtiboslar  Gone with the Wind. Volume 2
Margaret Mitchell

Ольга Петрова
Ольга Петроваiqtibos olmoqda2 yil oldin
gullies and gaunt black pines.
2 kishiga yoqdi
Fikr bildirish
Анастасия Ищенко
Анастасия Ищенкоiqtibos olmoqda3 oy oldin
Suddenly she felt strong and happy. She was not afraid of the darkness or the fog and she knew with a singing in her heart that she would never fear them again. No matter what mists might curl around her in the future, she knew her refuge. She started briskly up the street toward home and the blocks seemed very long. Far, far too long. She caught up her skirts to her knees and began to run lightly. But this time she was not running from fear. She was running because Rhett's arms were at the end of the street.
1 kishiga yoqdi
Fikr bildirish
Анастасия Ищенко
Анастасия Ищенкоiqtibos olmoqda3 oy oldin
Out of the dullness, one thought arose. Ashley did not love her and had never really loved her and the knowledge did not hurt. It should hurt. She should be desolate, broken hearted, ready to scream at fate. She had relied upon his love for so long. It had upheld her through so many dark places. Yet, there the truth was. He did not love her and she did not care. She did not care because she did not love him. She did not love him and so nothing he could do or say could hurt her. She lay down on the bed and put her head on the pillow tiredly. Useless to try to combat the idea, useless to say to herself: “But I do love him. I've loved him for years. Love can't change to apathy in a minute.” But it could change and it had changed. “He never really existed at all, except in my imagination,” she thought wearily. “I loved something I made up, something that's just as dead as Melly is. I made a pretty suit of clothes and fell in love with it. And when Ashley came riding along, so handsome, so different, I put that suit on him and made him wear it whether it fitted him or not. And I wouldn't see what he really was. I kept on loving the pretty clothes-and not him at all.”
1 kishiga yoqdi
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Анастасия Ищенко
Анастасия Ищенкоiqtibos olmoqda3 oy oldin
He had humbled her, hurt her, used her brutally through a wild mad night and she had gloried in it.
1 kishiga yoqdi
Fikr bildirish
Анастасия Ищенко
Анастасия Ищенкоiqtibos olmoqda3 oy oldin
For the first time in her life she had met someone, something stronger than she, someone she could neither bully nor break, someone who was bullying and breaking her.
1 kishiga yoqdi
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Анастасия Ищенко
Анастасия Ищенкоiqtibos olmoqda3 oy oldin
“No,” answered Rhett swiftly and, seeing the boy's face fall, he continued: “Now, why should I want a boy when I've already got one?” “You have?” cried Wade, his mouth falling open at this information. “Where is he?” “Right here,” answered Rhett and, picking the child up, drew him to his knee. “You are boy enough for me, son.
1 kishiga yoqdi
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Анастасия Ищенко
Анастасия Ищенкоiqtibos olmoqda3 oy oldin
W'en Ah wuz bathin' dat chile jes' now,” said Mammy, “Ah kinder 'pologized ter Mist' Rhett 'bout it not bein' a boy. But, Lawd, Miss Melly, you know whut he say? He say, 'Hesh yo' mouf, Mammy! Who want a boy? Boys ain' no fun. Dey's jes' a passel of trouble. Gals is whut is fun. Ah wouldn' swap disyere gal fer a baker's dozen of boys.' Den he try ter snatch de chile frum me, buck nekked as she wuz an' Ah slap his wrist an' say 'B'have yo'seff, Mist' Rhett! Ah'll jes' bide mah time tell you gits a boy, an' den Ah'll laff out loud to hear you holler fer joy.' He grin an' shake his haid an' say, 'Mammy, you is a fool. Boys ain' no use ter nobody. Ain' Ah a proof of dat?' Yas'm, Miss Melly, he ack lak a gempmum 'bout it,”
1 kishiga yoqdi
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Анастасия Ищенко
Анастасия Ищенкоiqtibos olmoqda3 oy oldin
She's a sight too smart for her own good.
1 kishiga yoqdi
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Анастасия Ищенко
Анастасия Ищенкоiqtibos olmoqda3 oy oldin
I'm riding you with a slack rein, my pet, but don't forget that I'm riding with curb and spurs just the same.
1 kishiga yoqdi
Fikr bildirish
Анастасия Ищенко
Анастасия Ищенкоiqtibos olmoqda3 oy oldin
made her play and she had almost forgotten how. Life had been so serious and so bitter. He knew how to play and swept her along with him. But he never played like a boy; he was a man and no matter what he did, she could never forget it. She could not look down on him from the heights of womanly superiority, smiling as women have always smiled at the antics of men who are boys at heart.
1 kishiga yoqdi
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