Maduck831's Reviews > Sanctuary

Sanctuary by William Faulkner
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Nov 29, 2011

it was amazing
Read in March, 2010

“There was a mirror behind her and another behind me, and she was watching herself in the one behind me, forgetting about the other one in which I could see her face, see her watching the back of my head with pure dissimulation. That’s why nature is ‘she’ and Progress is ‘he’: nature made the grape arbor, but Progress invented the mirror.” (14-15) “You’re not being tried by common sense,” Horace said. “You’re being tried by a jury.” (128) “I could even tell her I had a puncture,” Horace said. “time’s not such a bad thing after all. Use it right, and you can stretch anything out, like a rubberband, until it busts somewhere, and there you are, with all tragedy and despair in two little knots between thumb and finger of each land.” (177) “I don’t think about it. I don’t care. That’s what people in town think. So it doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not. What I do mind is, every day you force me to have to tell lies for you. Go away from here, Horace. Anybody but you would realize it’s a case of cold-blooded murder.” (179) “He knew that she knew it too, out of that feminine reserve of unflagging suspicion of all people’s action which seems at first to be mere affinity for evil but which is in reality practical wisdom.” (194) “Then it touched me, that nasty little cold hand, fiddling around inside the coast where I was naked. It was like alive ice and my skin started jumping away from it like those little flying fish in front of a boat. It was like my skin knew which way it was going to go before it started moving, and my skin would keep on jerking just ahead of it like there wouldn’t be anything there when the hand got there.” (211) “It’s us girls,” Miss Mrytle said. “Men just cant seem to take us and leave us for what we are. They make us what we are, then they expect us to be different. Except us not to never look at another man, while they come and go as they please.” (247) “But the lowest, cheapest thing on earth aint a nigger: it’s a jew. We need laws against them. Drastic laws. When a durn lowlife jew can come to a free country like this and just because he’s got a law degree, it’s time to put a stop to things. A jew is the lowest thing on this creation. And the lowest kind of jew is a jew layer. And the lowest kind of jew lawyer is a Memphis jew layer.” (258) “You’re a man now,” Horace said. “Aren’t you? I wish that jury could see you now, locked up in a concrete cell, scaring women and children with fifth grade ghost stories. They’d know you never had the guts to kill anybody.” (265) “You mean, with him at the foot of the bed, maybe? perhaps you holding him by the leg all the time, she he wouldn’t fall off?” / “Good God,” he whispered. “What kind of men have you known?” (268) “Horace couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t hear the man who had got burned screaming. He couldn’t hear the fire, though it still swirled upward unabated, as though it were living upon itself, and soundless: a voice of fury like in a dream, roaring silently out of a peaceful void.” (289) “While on his way to Pensacola to visit his mother, Popeye was arrested in Birmingham for the murder of a policeman in a small Alabama town on June 17 of that year. He was arrested in August. It was on the night of June 17 that Temple had passed him sitting in the parked car beside the road house on the night when Red had been killed.” (294) “While he was on his way home that summer they arrested him for killing a man in on twon and at an hour when he was in another town killing somebody else – that mad who made money and had nothing he could do with it, spend it for, since he knew that alcohol would kill him like poison, who had no friends and had never known a woman and knew he could never and he said, “For Christ’s sake,” looking about the cell in the jail of the town where the policeman had been killed, his free hand (the other was handcuffed to the other office who had brought him from Birmingham) finicking a cigarette from his coat.” (301-302) “Popeye began to jerk his neck forward in little jerks. “Psst!” he said, the sound cutting sharp into the drone of the minister’s voice; “psst!” The sheriff looked at him; he quit jerking his neck and stood rigid, as though he had an egg balanced on his head. “Fix my hair, Jack,” he said. / “Sure,” the sheriff said. “I’ll fix it for you”; springing the trap.” (308)
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