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Quote by Patricia Briggs

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Night Broken

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Patricia Briggs
Patricia Briggs

Patricia Briggs is an American author known for her works in the fantasy and science fiction genres. Born in 1965, she began publishing her works in 1993. Briggs' novels are celebrated for their complex characters and engaging plots. more

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“There was a movement to my right, and I snuck a quick glance to see Zee and Gabriel coming out the garage door. They must have gone back around. Zee had a crowbar in one hand and held it like another man might hold a sword. Gabriel had— “Zee,” I squeaked. “Tell him to put the torque wrench back and grab something that won’t cost me five hundred dollars if he hits someone with it.” “Won’t cost five hundred,” said Zee, but as I glanced over again, he nodded at the white-faced Gabriel, who looked at what he held as if he’d never seen it before. The boy slipped back into the garage as Zee said, “It wouldn’t break it — you’d just have to get it recalibrated.” “We have a whole garage worth of tools — pry bars, tire irons, and even a hammer or two. There’s got to be something better than my torque wrench he could have grabbed.”

HumorMoneyToolsMercy ThompsonZee
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“-(...)I should like you to be on the verge of love but not yet quite in it. That's a very nice state of mind, while it lasts. -But of course, I had already dived over that verge and was swimming away in a blue sea of illusion towards, I supposed, the islands of the blest, but really towards domesticity, maternity and the usual lot of womankind.”

MaternityFalse Illusions Of Romantic LoveRomantic Love CritizisedWomen S Domesticity
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“Later Buddy told me the woman was on a drug that would make her forget she'd had any pain and that hen she swore and groaned she really didn't know what she was doing because she was in a kind of twilight sleep. I thought it sounded just like the sort of drug a man would invent. Here was a woman in terrible pain, obviously feeling every bit of it or she wouldn't groan like that, and she would go straight home and start another baby, because the drug would make her forget how bad the pain had been, hen all the time, in some secret part of her, that long, blind, doorless and windowless corridor of pain was waiting to open up and shut her in again.”

Maternity
Book:the bell jar
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“Mon temps autrefois m'appartenait entièrement, et aux livres. Aujourd'hui, chaque minute consacrée à lire ou à écrire est une minute que je ne passe pas avec ma fille; l'écriture s'accompagne désormais d'une hâte et d'une culpabilité détestables. C'est du temps que je lui dérobe, que je ne retrouverai pas, que j'aurais dû lui consacrer et que je n'aurai jamais passé avec elle. Depuis sa naissance, je me prends à penser au futur antérieur et au conditionnel passé, des temps compliqués qui sont le signe qu'on considère les choses sous un point de vue autre que celui depuis lequel on parle normalement : demain vu au passé, hier comme une possibilité. Elle dort. Je devrais profiter de ce moment pour écrire, je n'arrive qu'à m'abîmer dans le bruit des vagues. Je voudrais m'étendre sur le sable, rester là jusqu'à la nuit, me laisser emporter par la marée.”

Parents And ChildrenAmourMaternityéCritureCulpabilitéApprendre
Author:Dominique Fortier
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