“The moistened thumb of the expectant reader has not yet marked the soft tissues of this lean clean smiling volume. Spread me, and break me open, for pleasure.”
From the second book, "The Book of the Innocent"
The Pillow Book
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Peter Greenaway 266
British film director 1942Related quotes
Mark you, how she hits me on the thumbs, said he.
And you taunt me tit over thumb, said she.
Since tit for tat, said I, on even hand is set.
Part II, chapter 4.
Proverbs (1546)
“That is a good book it seems to me, which is opened with expectation and closed with profit.”
“You've got a face for a smile, you know
A shame you waste it when you're breaking me slowly.”
World Of Chances
Lyrics, Here We Go Again (2009)
Variant translation: I, too, felt ready to start life all over again. It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe. To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I’d been happy, and that I was happy still. For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.
As translated by Stuart Gilbert
The Stranger (1942)
Context: For the first time in a long time I thought about Maman. I felt as if I understood why at the end of her life she had taken a 'fiancé,' why she had played at beginning again. Even there, in that home where lives were fading out, evening was a kind of wistful respite. So close to death, Maman must have felt free then and ready to live it all again. Nobody, nobody had the right to cry over her. And I felt ready to live it all again too. As if the blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. Finding it so much like myself — so like a brother, really — I felt I had been happy and that I was happy again. For everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.
“Those monkey-thumbs were meant for dogs. Give me my thumbs, you fu**ing monkeys!”
Source: The Art of Racing in the Rain