Émile Zola

Therese Raquin

Beatrix

The result was like lightning. The couple fell, one on top of the other, struck down, finding consolation at last in death.

She repeated to herself, ‘It is my children who have killed my child’.

..now it only remained for her to die, denying love, denying friendship, denying devotedness. Nothing existed but murder and lust.

… and she had remained a child, senselessly believing in a thousand silly things and unable to see life as it really is, dragging along in sanguinary filth of passions.

Never had despair fallen more rigorously on a being, the sinister truth like a flash of flame scorched the eyes of the paralysed woman and penetrated within her with the concussion of a shaft of lightning. 

Her words sounded particularly sweet in the silence and stillness of the room. The murderers, one seated on each side of her, silent and motionless, seemed to be attentively listening to what she said. In truth, they did not attempt to follow the sense of the gossip of the good old lady, they were simply pleased to hear this sound of soft words which prevented them attending the crash of their own thoughts.

Disturbing - (+ much love for Kate Winslet, superb audiobook)

Therese Raquin

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