I sit at my window and the words fly past me like birds — with God's help I catch some. — Jean Rhys

So it was all over, the advance and retreat, the doubts and hesitations. Everything finished, for better or for worse. (first lines)

She had left me thirsty and all my life would be thirst and longing for what I had lost before I found it.

They say when trouble comes close ranks, and so the white people did. But we were not in their ranks. The Jamaican ladies had never approved of my mother, ‘because she pretty like pretty self’ Christophine said. (first lines)