Not that she objected to solitude. Quite the contrary. She had books, thank Heaven, quantities of books. All sorts of books.

— Jean Rhys

Now I no longer wish to be loved, beautiful, happy or successful. I want one thing and one thing only - to be left alone.

— Jean Rhys

Now, money, for the night is coming. Money for my hair, money for my teeth, money for shoes that won't deform my feet (it's not so easy now to walk around in cheap shoes with very high heels), money for good clothes, money, money. The night is coming.

— Jean Rhys

One realized all sorts of things. The value of an illusion, for instance, and that the shadow can be more important than the substance. All sorts of things.

— Jean Rhys

Quite alone. No voice, no touch, no hand.... How long must I lie here? Forever? No, only for a couple of hundred years this time, miss....

— Jean Rhys

Reading makes immigrants of us all. It takes us away from home, but more important, it finds homes for us everywhere.

— Jean Rhys

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

— Jean Rhys

She spent the foggy day in endless, aimless walking, for it seemed to her that if she moved quickly enough she would escape the fear that hunted her. It was a vague and shadowy fear of something cruel and stupid that had caught her and would never let her go. She had always known that it was there - hidden under the more of less pleasant surface of things. Always. Ever since she was a child. You could argue about hunger or cold or loneliness, but with that fear you couldn't argue. It went too deep. You were too mysteriously sure of its terror. You could only walk very fast and try to leave it behind you.

— Jean Rhys

Something came out from my heart into my throat and then into my eyes.

— Jean Rhys

Stephan was secretive and a liar, but he was a very gentle and expert lover. She was the petted, cherished child, the desired mistress, the worshiped, perfumed goddess. She was all these things to Stephan - or so he made her believe.

— Jean Rhys