His own, by virtue of his foot standing on it.' Thornhill 'He saw what he had never seen before: that there could be no future for the Thornhill's back in London.' Thornhill 'He had to fight the feeling that the place was mocking him.' Thornhill 'My place now.you got all the rest.' Thornhill 'There were too many people here, and too little language to go around.' Thornhill 'But seeing it through her eyes, Thornhill knew what a flimsy home it was. The calculation in his mind was how soon he could get set up in the Hawkesbury trade, so that it would be the most logical thing in the world to need a base on the river: in short, when he would be able to stand on that point of land and know it was his.' Thornhill 'On land he was always within range of a spear.' Thornhill 'My place, Thornhill's place.' Thornhill 'It was a place of promise to him now, the blank page on which a man might write a new life.' Thornhill 'His own. Home, Will, imagine that!' Sal 'But he was not thinking about how soon they could go Home. Nothing that had ever been promised to him.' Thornhill 'I'll take it back to Pickle Herring Stairs by and by.right back where it come from.' Sal 'Thornhill noticed that Sal never ventured beyond the few streets of the township, dusty and muddy by turns.' Thornhill 'Couple years is all, Will, then we'll be right. He had not known until this minute that it was something he wanted so much.' Thornhill 'He had taken it as being another thing in the world that was just for gentry. To say mine, in a way he had never been able to say mine of anything at all. Now one had ever spoken o how there could be this teasing sparkle and dance of light among the threes, this calm clean space that invited feet to enter it.' Thornhill 'I am Thornhill, he called, hearing his voice cracked and small.' Thornhill 'Men came from all the streets around, cheered to watch this black insect of a man capering before them, a person lower in the order of things even than they were.' Thornhill 'It was a piercing hunger in his guts: to own it. No one had every spoken to him of how a man might fall in love with a piece of ground. 'Now it was called Sydney Cove, and it had only one purpose: to be a container for those condemned by His Majesty's courts.' Thornhill 'It all had an odd unattached look, the bits of ground cut up into squares in this big loose landscape, a broken off chip of England resting on the surface of the place.' Thornhill 'How could air, water, dirt and rocks fashion themselves to become so outlandish?' Thornhill 'A chaos opened up inside him, a confusion of wanting.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |