Bliss & Other Stories

Bertha simply ran over to the long windows.

“Oh, what is going to happen now?” she cried.

But the pear tree was as lovely as ever and as full of flower and as still.

How absurd it was. Why have a baby if it has to be kept—not in a case like a rare, rare fiddle—but in another woman’s arms?

Although Bertha Young was thirty she still had moments like this when she wanted to run instead of walk, to take dancing steps on and off the pavement, to bowl a hoop, to throw something up in the air and catch it again, or to stand still and laugh at—nothing—at nothing, simply.

Заполните анкету! – сказала она и захлопнула окошко.

«Можете ли вы летать на самолете – умеете ли бросаться с вышки в воду – управлять автомобилем – ездить верхом стоя – стрелять?» – прочла мисс Мосс. Она шла по улице и повторяла эти вопросы. Дул пронзительный, холодный ветер, он хлестал ее по лицу, валил с ног, насмехался над ней: он знал, что она не может ответить «да» ни на один вопрос.

Заурядность не может чувствовать так сильно и ... ясно.

Мне мой путь ясен. Я буду делать то, чего никто еще не делал, потому что мой жизненный опыт - это мой жизненный опыт.

I see my way quite perfectly. Nobody has ever done it as I shall do it because none of the others have lived my experiences.

Что ушло, то ушло. Забудьте и, если вам требуется утешение, утешьтесь тем, что ни одна вещь не вернется к вам в точности такой, какой была. Она будет другой. Едва покинув вас, она меняется.

When a thing's gone, it's gone. It's over and done with. Let it go then ! Ignore it, and comfort yourself, if you do want comforting, with the thought that you never do recover the same thing that you lose. It's always a new thing. The moment it leaves you it's changed.

I was simply overwhelmed. And the physical feeling was so curious, so particular. It was as if all of me, except my head and arms, all of me that was under the table, had simply dissolved, melted, turned into water. Just my head remained and two sticks of arms pressing on to the table. But, ah! the agony of that moment! How can I describe it? I didn't think of anything. I didn't even cry out to myself. Just for one moment I was not. I was Agony, Agony, Agony.