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Regain (Le Livre De Poche)

Jean Giono

Top 10 Best Quotes

“Everything was frozen up and silent that morning. Even the wind was silent, but not really dead. It waved about a little and beat its tail gently against the hard sky. There was no sun yet. The sky was empty. It was all frozen up, like a sheet hanging out in the frost.”

“The sun's last finger let go of the pine up there. The sun fell behind the hills. A few drops of blood splashed the sky. Night washed them out with her grey hand.”

“Soft green grass grew in front of the house. There stood the cypress too, and, as if on purpose, it was singing with its tree-voice, its sweet-sounding voice, inviting to the ear. Then there were bees which had lived under a tile and were humming in the air. And then, like a miracle, so unexpected that it made them rub their eyes, there was a small lilac tree in full blossom.”

“   She listened; she heard the dull thumping of her blood which seemed to be tramping on her with a heavy heel.     She passed her left hand across the night to feel the man's firm wrist, which was against her right hand. It was all knotted like a gnarled branch. It filled her left hand with warm flesh which was supple and finely nerved.     "I can't explain....They all have their women. Such a passion has seized the earth...such a passion!" ”

“ He walked briskly.    He was all wrapped up in his joy.    He was filled with songs, packed in his throat and pressing against his teeth. He puckered up his lips.     It was a joy of which he wanted to savour all the smell and taste the juice as long as possible, like a sheep eating grass in the evening among the hills. He went on like that, until the beautiful silence had settled within him and around him, like a meadow.”

“Whenever Gaubert felt bored, he took hold of the hammer with both hands, raised it, and struck the anvil. He went on like that, for no purpose, just for the sound, to hear the sound. His life was in each of those strokes. The sound of the anvil echoed through the countryside and sometimes came upon Panturle while he was hunting.”

“They went down to the stream. It was all bearded with dirty grasses and was grumbling, for the rains had filled it with water. So it complained. It complained of being too fat. It was never satisfied. In summer it spent its time moaning that it was going to die, and then...Streams were always like that.”

“The truth was that they were longing to be alone in their own silence. They were used to big, open fields, slowly living their own life beside them. There, they were cemented, flesh to flesh, knowing in advance what the other was thinking about, knowing the word before it had left the mouth, knowing it even when it was still being formed with difficulty deep down in the breast. Here, the noise had cut them apart like a knife, and they had needed to touch each other by the arm or hand all day long to satisfy their hearts a little.”

“Panturle was a huge man. He looked like a piece of wood walking along.”

“Lanky Belline was in the court counting her ducks. She was thin as a cypress and nearly as tall.”

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Book Keywords:

love, bees, streams, alone, wood, thin, silence, passion, huge-man, joy, cypress, cold-morning, loneliness, anthropomorphism, noise, tall, frozen, old-age, sun, touching, life-s-meaning

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