“I'm seething with rage, yet I can't show it.”
“1939. Love rages. It cries out from you, seething and red; I come back for more and more.”
“In the space of so many scant hours, a new world had lifted the hem of her skirts before him. A world of seething pleasures and sweaty rage.”
“A wild longing for strong emotions and sensations seethes in me, a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life. I have a mad impulse to smash something, a warehouse perhaps, or a cathedral, or myself, to committ outrages...”
“I have this rage that I can't explain. It's sad.”
“Livia, I'm made of glass, but it only shows in the sun. I can't be caught in sunlight or everyone will know what I am.”