Thomas Hardy – The beauty of his writing and the gloom

What I loved in Hardy's writing and what I despised



  I thought I would die of aching heart, of hollowness inside, of sorrows that inhibited my heart and wouldn’t go away.   I thought I would die of pain, of longing, of loneliness of thousand little memories that I visited day after day.   I thought I would die of despair, the despair of …


    Is not it amazing how it carries its body, the colour of deep ocean with wings as light and thin as silk and flies from leaf to leaf and how it adores the green grass, the trees, the flowers, the morning sun, the summer wind and how it cherishes its short, humble life …