Why

I’m currently deep into The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt, possibly my favorite book read this year. I stumbled upon this passage:

“…why hadn’t my mother married someone like him –? Or Mr Bracegirdle? somebody she actually had something in common with — older maybe but personable, someone who enjoyed galleries and string quartets and poking around used book stores, someone attentive, cultivated, kind? Who would have appreciated her, and bought her pretty clothes and taken her to Paris for her birthday, and given her the life she deserved?”

Why hadn’t I?

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “Why

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s