On Stumbled Prose

Accidentally happened upon a series of literary quotes from Nancy Mitford, whose works i have never read, but something in her words has a deep resonance with me:

"Twice in her life she had mistaken something else for it; it was like seeing somebody in the street who you think is a friend, you whistle and wave and run after him, and it is not only not the friend, but not even very like him. A few minutes later the real friend appears in view, and then you can't imagine how you ever mistook that other person for him. Linda was now looking upon the authentic face of love, and she knew it, but it frightened her. That it should come so casually, so much by a series of accidents, was frightening."

"always either on a peak of happiness or drowning in black waters of despair they loved or they loathed, they lived in a world of superlatives"

"The trouble is that people seem to expect happiness in life. I can't imagine why; but they do. They are unhappy before they marry, and they imagine to themselves that the reason of their unhappiness will be removed when they are married. When it isn't they blame the other person, which is clearly absurd. I believe that is what generally starts the trouble." 

"Life itself, she thought, as she went upstairs to dress for dinner, was stranger than dreams and far, far more disordered."

"To fall in love you have to be in the state of mind for it to take, like a disease."

"The people welcome a new day as if they were certain of liking it, the shopkeepers pull up their blinds serene in the expectation of good trade, the workers go happily to their work, the people who have sat up all night in night clubs go happily to their rest, the orchestra of motor-car horns, of clanking trams, of whistling policemen tunes up for the daily symphony, and everywhere is joy."