P 75 Quotes

“Everyone was gazing out to sea. It was a bright winter’s day, the sun so low and glarey you had to shield your eyes, yet the dark shapes of the Luftwaffe were clearly visible in the sky.
‘If Jerry bombs my cabbages,’ said a man with shaving foam still on his cheeks, ‘he’ll have me to answer to!’
‘Oh, Jim,’ Mrs. Moore who ran the bakery called across the street. ‘They’re heading for Plymouth, you daft ha’porth, not your garden!’
What bothered me was the planes were getting closer. And louder. There were six of them: one out in front, two flying higher, two directly below, one bringing up the rear. They flew parallel to the coast, close enough to see the distinctive black crosses on the planes’ sides. Close enough to be almost level with the long, low platform of rocks on which stood the lighthouse.”
― Emma Carroll, Letters from the Lighthouse

“Hayır, ilgim daha çok kırık, çatlak, sararmış, kenarıları aşınmış olanlara, zamanın tahrip ettiği ve mekana sonunda benim sevdiğim o küçük eski moda stil dışında, garip bir biçimde içimi rahatlatan kusurlu bir hava veren öteki fayanslara. [...] "Julie," demişti, "savaşlar dağılmış suratlardaki yara izlerinden okunur, kalıp gibi, gıcır gıcır ütülü üniformalarına bürünmüş general fotoğraflarından değil.”
― Jean-Paul Didierlaurent, The Reader on the 6.27