Miss MacIntosh, My Darling discussion

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Reading Miss MacIntosh > 22 - At breakfast, where we sat... (271)

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message 1: by Jonathan (new)

Jonathan (nathandjoe) | 44 comments Chpt 22 p271


message 2: by Jonathan (last edited Oct 31, 2014 03:02AM) (new)

Jonathan (nathandjoe) | 44 comments Questions Questions Questions

The world of facts. Newspapers. History.

"Miss Macintosh had been, she always loudly stated, the best baseball player in little old What Cheer, playing baseball every Sunday. She had made the quickest home run ever made. Her brothers had said it was as fast as if she had never left base. Georgia had run faster than any of them."

The wrecks buried under the deep ocean, not far from shore. Magnetic, treacherous, pulling vessels down into the depths.

"Often the migratory orioles, mistaking the lighthouse for the light, the reality for the illusion, would dash themselves to death against the glass. "

"Sometimes it seem to Miss MacIntosh, she gruffly said, that the inner man was all that counted – not the outer man, this poor visage and mockery of himself, so every image should fade, and the dead should not return. The inner man might be an altogether different being from the poor outer man, Only the poorest fool would judge by the appearances, by the outer visage and these poor clothes a man must wear, these mortal garments so ill-fitting and not his choice at all. Sometimes she thought the inner man was battered, too, impaired by much hard usage. Her soul itself must have, she laughed, this broken crown, these weak and watering eyes which could scarcely endure the sunlight or its reflection on the water, this poor, broken nose, these false teeth, these knotted veins , the large hands, the large, long feet."

" My mother saw everything but mistook everything she saw for something else…"



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