Cold Comfort FarmBook - 2013
From the critics
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"There'll be no butter in hell!"
“Ye know, doan't ye, what it feels like when ye burn yer hand in takin' a cake out of the oven or wi'a match when ye're lightin' one of they godless cigarettes? Ay. It stings wi' a fearful pain, doan't it? And ye run away to clap a bit o' butter on it to take the pain away. Ah, but' (an impressive pause) 'there'll be no butter in hell!”
He was enmeshed in his grief. He did not notice that Graceless's leg had come off and that she was managing as best she could with three.
No one had seen anything of Urk since he had gone galloping out into the night carrying Meriam, the hired girl. It was generally assumed that he had drowned her and then himself. Who cared, anyway?
'You have the most revolting Florence Nightingale complex,' said Mrs. Smiling.
'It is not that at all, and well you know it. On the whole, I dislike my fellow beings; I find them so difficult to understand. But I have a tidy mind and untidy lives irritate me. Also, they are uncivilized.'
Here was an occasion, she thought, for indulging in that deliberate rudeness which only persons with habitually good manners have the right to commit...
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