معرفی و دانلود رمان انگلیسی Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier 

ربکا نوشته دافنه دوموریه

نویسنده:

دافنه دوموریه      Daphne du Maurier

درباره رمان ربکا نوشته دافنه دوموریه (Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier):

خوشحالم که تب نخستین عشق بار دیگر تکرار  نمی شود. زیرا تب است، و شاعران هرچه بگویند باری است سنگین. در بیست و یک سالگی روز ها با شجاعت همراه نیستند، بلکه پر از بزدلی های کوچک و ترس های بی پایه اند، و آدم زود لطمه می خورد، زخمی می شود و با شنیدن نخستین واژه های نیش دار از پا در می آید. امروز در جوشن میانسالی نیش های کوچک روزانه به سبکی پوست را لمس میکنند و به زودی فراموش می شوند، اما در آن سن، یک حرف نسنجیده باقی می ماند و به زخمی سوزنده تبدیل می شود، و یک نگاه، نگاهی به پشت سر، ابدی به نظر می رسد.

رمان عاشقانه ربه کا نوشته دافنه دوموریه

من همه چیزهای ساده را دوست دارم، کتاب ها را، تنهایی را یا بودن با کسی که تو را میفهمد!

رمان عاشقانه ربکا اثر دافنه دوموریه

خیال، چه نرم و ساده است. خیال، دشمن تلخی و پشیمانی است و تبعید خودخواسته ی ما را شیرین میکند.

رمان عاشقانه ربکا نوشته دافنه دوموریه

دیگر هرگز نمی توانیم برگردیم در این شکی نیست. گذشته هنوز بسیار نزدیک است. چیزهایی که می خواهیم فراموش کنیم و پشت سر بگذاریم، بار دیگر زنده می شوند و آن احساس ترس و ناآرامی مرموزی که رفته رفته به وحشتی کور و نامعقول منتهی میشد ممکن است مثل گذشته به نحوی غیر منتظره، به همراه همیشگیمان تبدیل شود.

رمان عاشقانه ربه کا نوشته دافنه دوموریه

کاش همیشه با من مثل یک بچه رفتار نمی‌کرد؛ بچه‌ای لوس و بی خیال. کسی که گه گاه نوازشش می‌کرد، هر وقت حالش را داشت. اما اغلب فراموشش می‌کرد یا دستی به شانه‌اش می‌زد و می‌گفت برود دنبال بازی. کاش اتفاقی می‌افتاد تا باعث شود پخته‌تر و سرد و گرم چشیده‌تر به نظر بیایم. در آینده هم وضع همین‌طور باقی می‌ماند؟ او همیشه جلوتر از من بود، با حالت‌هایی که در آن شریک نبودم و گرفتاری‌های پنهانی که از آن هیچ نمی‌دانستم؟ هیچ‌وقت می‌شد که با هم باشیم. او به‌عنوان مرد و من به‌عنوان زن شانه به شانه بایستیم. دست در دست بدون هیچ فاصله‌ای در میان‌مان؟ من نمی‌‌خواستم کودک باشم. می‌خواستم همسرش باشم، مادرش. دلم می‌خواست پیر بودم. در تراس ایستادم. ناخن می‌جویدم و به دریا نگاه می‌کردم. در آن حال برای بیستمین بار در آن روز فکر کردم آیا به دستور ماکسیم بود که اتاق‌های مبله‌ی قسمت غربی، در بسته مانده بودند؟ با خود گفتم آیا او هم مثل خانم دانورس به آن‌جا می‌رفت، برس‌های روی میز توالت را لمس می‌کرد، در قفسه‌ها را می‌گشود و به لباس‌ها دست می‌کشید؟ با صدای بلند گفتم: «بیا جسپر، بیا با هم بدویم.» و با خشم، در حالی که اشک به چشمم می‌آمد شروع به دویدن کردم و جسپر پارس کنان دنبالم کرد…

خبر برگزاری جشن بالماسکه به زودی در منطقه پیچید. خدمتکار جوانم کاریس با چشمانی که از شدت هیجان می‌درخشید از هیچ چیز دیگری صحبت نمی‌کرد. از گفته‌های او پی بردم که همه‌ی خدمتکاران از این بابت خوشحال بودند. با لحنی مشتاق گفت: «آقای فریت می‌گوید مثل آن وقت‌ها می‌شود. امروز صبح که توی راهرو با آلیس حرف می‌زد شنیدم. شما چه می‌پوشید مادام؟» گفتم: «نمی‌دانم کلاریس. چیزی به فکرم نمی‌رسد.»

کلاریس گفت: «مادرم گفت حتما به او خبر بدهم. آخرین جشن مندرلی را به خاطر دارد و هرگز فراموشش نمی‌کند. فکر می‌کنید از لندن لباسی بگیرید؟»

رمان عاشقانه ربکا، اثری از دافنه دوموریه

توضیحات رمان انگلیسی ربه کا ( Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier):

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again

The novel begins in Monte Carlo, where our heroine is swept off her feet by the dashing widower Maxim de Winter and his sudden proposal of marriage. Orphaned and working as a lady’s maid, she can barely believe her luck. It is only when they arrive at his massive country estate that she realizes how large a shadow his late wife will cast over their lives–presenting her with a lingering evil that threatens to destroy their marriage from beyond the grave

جملاتی از کتاب Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier:

Rebecca Quotes

“Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.”

“If only there could be an invention that bottled up a memory, like scent. And it never faded, and it never got stale. And then, when one wanted it, the bottle could be uncorked, and it would be like living the moment all over again.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“Happiness is not a possession to be prized, it is a quality of thought, a state of mind.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say.”

“I wondered how many people there were in the world who suffered, and continued to suffer, because they could not break out from their own web of shyness and reserve, and in their blindness and folly built up a great distorted wall in front of them that hid the truth.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I suppose sooner or later in the life of everyone comes a moment of trial. We all of us have our particular devil who rides us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end.”

“I wish I was a woman of about thirty-six dressed in black satin with a string of pearls.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“Men are simpler than you imagine my sweet child. But what goes on in the twisted, tortuous minds of women would baffle anyone.”

“We can never go back again, that much is certain. The past is still close to us. The things we have tried to forget and put behind us would stir again, and that sense of fear, of furtive unrest, struggling at length to blind unreasoning panic – now mercifully stilled, thank God – might in some manner unforeseen become a living companion as it had before.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I wanted to go on sitting there, not talking, not listening to the others, keeping the moment precious for all time, because we were peaceful all of us, we were content and drowsy even as the bee who droned above our heads. In a little while it would be different, there would come tomorrow, and the next day and another year. And we would be changed perhaps, never sitting quite like this again. Some of us would go away, or suffer, or die, the future stretched away in front of us, unknown, unseen, not perhaps what we wanted, not what we planned. This moment was safe though, this could not be touched. Here we sat together, Maxim and I, hand-in-hand, and the past and the future mattered not at all. This was secure, this funny little fragment of time he would never remember, never think about again…For them it was just after lunch, quarter-past-three on a haphazard afternoon, like any hour, like any day. They did not want to hold it close, imprisoned and secure, as I did. They were not afraid.”

“The road to Manderley lay ahead. There was no moon. The sky above our heads was inky black. But the sky on the horizon was not dark at all. It was shot with crimson, like a splash of blood. And the ashes blew towards us with the salt wind from the sea.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“Either you go to America with Mrs. Van Hopper or you come home to Manderley with me.”
“Do you mean you want a secretary or something?”
“No, I’m asking you to marry me, you little fool.”

“I wondered why it was that places are so much lovelier when one is
alone.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“We’re not meant for happiness, you and I.”

“A dreamer, I walked enchanted, and nothing held me back.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say. They are not brave, the days when we are twenty-one. They are full of little cowardices, little fears without foundation, and one is so easily bruised, so swiftly wounded, one falls to the first barbed word. To-day, wrapped in the complacent armour of approaching middle age, the infinitesimal pricks of day by day brush one but lightly and are soon forgotten, but then–how a careless word would linger, becoming a fiery stigma, and how a look, a glance over a shoulder, branded themselves as things eternal. A denial heralded the thrice crowing of a cock, and an insincerity was like the kiss of Judas. The adult mind can lie with untroubled conscience and a gay composure, but in those days even a small deception scoured the tongue, lashing one against the stake itself.”

“I believe there is a theory that men and women emerge finer and stronger after suffering, and that to advance in this or any world we must endure ordeal by fire.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I wondered why it was that places are so much lovelier when one is alone. How commonplace and stupid it would be if I had a friend now, sitting beside me, someone I had known at school, who would say: “By-the-way, I saw old Hilda the other day. You remember her, the one who was so good at tennis. She’s married, with two children.” And the bluebells beside us unnoticed, and the pigeons overhead unheard. I did not want anyone with me. Not even Maxim. If Maxim had been there I should not be lying as I was now, chewing a piece of grass, my eyes shut. I should have been watching him, watching his eyes, his expression. Wondering if he liked it, if he was bored. Wondering what he was thinking. Now I could relax, none of these things mattered. Maxim was in London. How lovely it was to be alone again.”

“Every moment was a precious thing, having in it the essence of finality.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“…the routine of life goes on, whatever happens, we do the same things, go through the little performance of eating, sleeping, washing. No crisis can break through the crust of habit.”

“They are not brave, the days when we are twenty-one. They are full of little cowardices, little fears without foundation, and one is so easily bruised, so swiftly wounded, one falls to the first barbed word. To-day, wrapped in the complacent armour of approaching middle age, the infinitesimal pricks of day by day brush one but lightly and are soon forgotten, but then—how a careless word would linger, becoming a fiery stigma, and how a look, a glance over a shoulder, branded themselves as things eternal.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“It wouldn’t make for sanity would it, living with the devil.”

“Will you look into my eyes and tell me that you love me now?”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“Boredom is a pleasing antidote for fear”

“Come and see us if you feel like it,’ she said. ‘I always expect people to ask themselves. Life is too short to send out invitations.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“The moment of crisis had come, and I must face it. My old fears, my diffidence, my shyness, my hopeless sense of inferiority, must be conquered now and thrust aside. If I failed now I should fail forever.”

“Time will mellow it, make it a moment for laughter. But now it was not funny, now I did not laugh. It was not the future, it was the present. It was too vivid and too real.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I had build up false pictures in my mind and sat before them. I had never had the courage to demand the truth.”

“This house sheltered us, we spoke, we loved within those walls. That was yesterday. To-day we pass on, we see it no more, and we are different, changed in some infinitesimal way. We can never be quite the same again.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“Why did dogs make one want to cry? There was something so quiet and hopeless about their sympathy. Jasper, knowing something was wrong, as dogs always do. Trunks being packed. Cars being brought to the door. Dogs standing with drooping tails, dejected eyes. Wandering back to their baskets in the hall when the sound of the car dies away.”

“We’ve got a bond in common, you and I. We are both alone in the world.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“He belonged to a walled city of the fifteenth century, a city of narrow, cobbled streets, and thin spires, where the inhabitants wore pointed shoes and worsted hose. His face was arresting, sensitive, medieval in some strange inexplicable way, and I was reminded of a portrait seen in a gallery I had forgotten where, of a certain Gentleman Unknown. Could one but rob him of his English tweeds, and put him in black, with lace at his throat and wrists, he would stare down at us in our new world from a long distant past—a past where men walked cloaked at night, and stood in the shadow of old doorways, a past of narrow stairways and dim dungeons, a past of whispers in the dark, of shimmering rapier blades, of silent, exquisite courtesy.”

“If you think I’m one of those people who try to be funny at breakfast you’re wrong. I’m invariably ill-tempered in the early morning.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I held out my arms to him and he came to me like a child.”

“I don’t mind. I like being alone.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“We all of us have our particular devil who ruses us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end.”

“I would have gone too but I wanted to come straight back to you.I kept thinking of you, waiting here, all by yourself, not knowing what was going to happen.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“They were all fitting into place, the jig-saw pieces. The odd strained shapes that I had tried to piece together with my fumbling fingers and they had never fitted. Frank’s odd manner when I spoke about Rebecca. Beatrice and her rather diffident negative attitude. The silence that I had always taken for sympathy and regret was a silence born of shame and embarrassment. It seemed incredible to me now that I had never understood. I wondered how many people there were in the world who suffered, and continued to suffer, because they could not break out from their own web of shyness and reserve, and in their blindness and folly built up a great wall in front of them that hid the truth. This was what I had done. I had built up false pictures in my mind and sat before them. I had never had the courage to demand the truth. Had I made one step forward out of my own shyness Maxim would have told these things four months, five months ago.”

“But I have had enough melodrama in this life, and would willingly give my five senses if they could ensure us our present peace and security. Happiness is not a possession to be prized, it is a quality of thought, a state of mind. Of course we have our moments of depression; but there are other moments too, when time, unmeasured by the clock, runs on into eternity and, catching his smile, I know we are together, we march in unison, no flash of thought or opinion makes a barrier between us.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I could fight with the living but I could not fight the dead. If there was some woman in London that Maxim loved, someone he wrote to, visited, dined with, slept with, I could fight her. We would stand on common ground. I should not be afraid. Anger and jealousy were things that could be conquered. One day the woman would grow old or tired or different, and Maxim would not love her anymore. But Rebecca would never grow old. Rebecca would always be the same. And she and I could not fight. She was too strong for me.”

“She had to live in this bright, red gabled house with the nurse until it was time for her to die… I thought how little we know about the feelings of old people. Children we understand, their fears and hopes and make-believe.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“What degradation lay in being young.”

“Those dripping crumpets, I can see them now. Tiny crisp wedges of toast, and piping-hot, flaky scones. Sandwiches of unknown nature, mysteriously flavoured and quite delectable, and that very special gingerbread. Angel cake, that melted in the mouth, and his rather stodgier companion, bursting with peel and raisins. There was enough food there to keep a starving family for a week.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“Packing up. The nagging worry of departure. When shutting drawers and flinging wide an hotel wardrobe, or the impersonal shelves of a furnished villa, I am aware of sadness, of a sense of loss. Here, I say, we have lived, we have been happy. This has been ours, however brief the time. Though two nights only have been spent beneath a roof, yet we leave something of ourselves behind. Nothing material, not a hair-pin on a dressing-table, not an empty bottle of Aspirin tablets, not a handkerchief beneath a pillow, but something indefinable, a moment of our lives, a thought, a mood. This house sheltered us, we spoke, we loved within those walls. That was yesterday. Today we pass on, we see it no more, and we are different, changed in some infinitesimal way. We can never be quite the same again.”

“I am glad it cannot happen twice, the fever of first love. For it is a fever, and a burden, too, whatever the poets may say. They are not brave, the days when we are twenty one. They are so full of little cowardices, little fears without foundation, and one is so easily bruised, so swiftly wounded, one falls to the first barbed word.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I thought of all those heroines of fiction who looked pretty when they cried, and what a contrast I must make with a blotched and swollen face, and red rims to my eyes.”

“We were like two performers in a play, but we were divided, we were not acting with one another. We had to endure it alone, we had to put up this show, this miserable, sham performance for the sake of all these people I did not know and did not want to see again.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“An empty house can be as lonely as a full hotel” he said at length.”The trouble is that it is less impersonal.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“He had the face of one who walks in his sleep, and for a wild moment the idea came to me that perhaps he was not normal, not altogether sane. There were people who had trances, I had surely heard of them, and they followed strange laws of which we could know nothing, they obeyed the tangled orders of their own sub-conscious minds. Perhaps he was one of them, and here we were within six feet of death.”

“I was following a phantom in my mind, whose shadowy form had taken shape at last. Her features were blurred, her coloring indistinct, the setting of her eyes and the texture of her hair was still uncertain, still to be revealed.

She had beauty that endured, and a smile that was not forgotten. Somewhere her voice still lingered, and the memory of her words.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“There was never an accident.Rebecca was not drowned at all. I killed her.I shot Rebecca in the cottage in the cove.I carried her body to the cabin, and took the boat out that night and sunk it there, where they found it today.It’s Rebecca who’s lying dead there on the cabin floor.Will you look into my eyes and tell me that you love me now?”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“There was something rather blousy about roses in full bloom, something shallow and raucous, like women with untidy hair”

“Of course we have our moments of depression; but there are other moments too, when time, unmeasured by the clock, runs on into eternity and, catching his smile, I know we are together, we march in unison, no clash of thought or of opinion makes a barrier between us.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“The peace of Manderley. The quietude and the grace. Whoever lived within its walls, whatever trouble there was and strife, however much uneasiness and pain, no matter what tears were shed, what sorrows borne, the peace of Manderley could not be broken or the loveliness destroyed. The flowers that died would bloom again another year, the same birds build their nests, the same trees blossom. That old quiet moss smell would linger in the air, and the bees would come, and crickets, the herons build their nests in the deep dark woods. The butterflies would dance their merry jug across the lawns, and spiders spin foggy webs, and small startled rabbits who had no business to come trespassing poke their faces through the crowded shrubs. There would be lilac, and honeysuckle still, and the white magnolia buds unfolding slow and tight beneath the dining-room window. No one would ever hurt Manderley. It would lie always in its hollow like an enchanted thing, guarded by the woods, safe, secure, while the sea broke and ran and came again in the little shingle bays below.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“I thought how little we know about the feelings of old people. Children we understand, their fears and hopes and make-believe. I was a child yesterday. I had not forgotten. But Maxim’s grandmother, sitting there in her shawl with her poor blind eyes, what did she feel, what was she thinking? Did she know that Beatrice was yawning and glancing at her watch? Did she guess that we had come to visit her because we felt it right, it was a duty, so that when she got home afterwards Beatrice would be able to say, “Well, that clears my conscience for three months”? Did she ever think about Manderley? Did she remember sitting at the dining room table, where I sat? Did she too have tea under the chestnut tree? Or was it all forgotten and laid aside, and was there nothing left behind that calm, pale face of hers but little aches and little strange discomforts, a blurred thankfulness when the sun shone, a tremor when the wind blew cold? I wished that I could lay my hands upon her face and take the years away. I wished I could see her young, as she was once, with color in her cheeks and chestnut hair, alert and active as Beatrice by her side, talking as she did about hunting, hounds, and horses. Not sitting there with her eyes closed while the nurse thumped the pillows behind her head. “We’ve got a treat today, you know,” said the nurse, “watercress sandwiches for tea. We love watercress, don’t we?”

“I felt rather exhausted, and wondered, rather shocked at my callous thought, why old people were sometimes such a strain. Worse than young children or puppies because one had to be polite.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“When the leaves rustle, they sound very much like the stealthy movement of a woman in evening dress, and when they shiver suddenly, and fall, and scatter away along the ground, they might be the patter of a woman’s hurrying footsteps, and the mark in the gravel the imprint of a high-heeled shoe.”

“I am aware of sadness, of a sense of loss. Here, I say, we have lived, we have been happy. This has been ours, however brief the time. Though two nights only have been spent beneath a roof, yet we leave something of ourselves behind. Nothing material, . . . but something indefinable, a moment of our lives, a thought, a mood.
The house sheltered us, we spoke, we loved within those walls. That was yesterday. To-day we pass on, we see it no more, and we are different, changed in some infinitesimal way. We can never be quite the same again.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

“You have qualities that are just as important, far more so, in fact. It’s perhaps cheeky of me to say so, I don’t know you very well. I’m a bachelor, I don’t know very much about women, I lead a quiet sort of life down here at Manderley, as you know, but I should say that kindliness, and sincerity, and if I may say so—modesty—are worth far more to a man, to a husband, than all the wit and beauty in the world.”

“I believe there is a theory that men and women emerge finer and stronger after suffering, and that to advance in this or any world we must endure ordeal by fire. This we have done in full measure, ironic though it seems. We have both known fear, and loneliness, and very great distress. I suppose sooner or later in the life of everyone comes a moment of trial. We all of us have our particular devil who rides us and torments us, and we must give battle in the end.”
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier

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