Read "Life, the Interpreter" by Phyllis Bottome online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
"And Memory fed the Soul of Love with tears."
"TOO late! " is a phrase holding the eternal knell of life. It sounds like a muffled peal even to those who hear it lightly said. To those who have lived through it, the worst of the battle passes before their eyes again. Many, perhaps blissfully, miss all that it means. They dare not, or cannot, face remorse. That they themselves have pulled down their house about their ears seems to them an infamous impossibility. They forget all their own cruel words, long neglect and unfair judgment, and only remember flashes of sunlight which they connect-probably quite falsely-with themselves. Their "yesterdays look backward with a smile."