...How could anything as delicate as love turn into the har… - Jo Sinclair

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...How could anything as delicate as love turn into the harsh accusation of [his] eyes? (book 3 chapter 11)

Jo Sinclair

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About Jo Sinclair

Ruth Seid (July 1, 1913 – April 4, 1995) was a novelist who wrote under the pen name Jo Sinclair. She was Jewish, lesbian, and lived in the USA.

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Alternative Names: Ruth Seid

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Additional quotes by Jo Sinclair

All that summer, as no white people came to rent the empty, upstairs suites of the Valenti house or the Golden house, tension had mounted in the street. Only Negroes came. (first lines)

The first spring after the death is unbearable. Its inexorable, complete awakening. Its compulsive memories. Its intolerable mockery of beauty.

How fast the evening had passed, with its newnesses boxed one within the next like constantly opening flashes of excitement. (book 3 chapter 5)

...How could anything as delicate as love turn into the harsh accusation of [his] eyes? (book 3 chapter 11) - Jo Sinclair

About Jo Sinclair

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