the awakening

This book is maddening in some parts, but I think the emotions Kate Chopin wrote about are universal; we've all experienced some degree of them from time to time.

An indescribable oppression, which seemed to generate in some unfamiliar part of her consciousness, filled her whole being with a vague anguish. It was like a shadow, like a mist passing across her soul's summer day. It was strange and unfamiliar; it was a mood.

A certain light was beginning to dawn dimly within her--the light which, showing the way, forbids it. At that early period it seemed but to bewilder her. It moved her to dreams, to thoughtfulness, to the shadowy anguish which had overcome her the midnight she had abandoned herself to tears.

She had all her life long been accustomed to harbor thoughts and emotions which never voiced themselves. They had never taken the form of struggles. They belonged to her and were hers alone, and she entertained the conviction that she had a right to them and that they concerned no one but herself.

She put her arms around me and felt my shoulder blades, to see if my wings were strong, she said. "The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth."

I have a slight obsession with quotes and passages from books that read like perfect poetry...