Can You Match These 'Set In Brighton' Quotes To The Right Book?
Can You Match These 'Set In Brighton' Quotes To The Right Book?
What do you think of when you think of Brighton? Seagulls? The pier? A pebbly beach? Hippies? Vegans?
Whatever your associations with this seafront city, you probably don’t think of books. And that’s a shame, because it’s the perfect place to read in and read about, and you may be surprised just how many books it pops up in.
Can you match the Brighton quote to the book it appears in?
What do you think of when you think of Brighton? Seagulls? The pier? A pebbly beach? Hippies? Vegans?
Whatever your associations with this seafront city, you probably don’t think of books. And that’s a shame, because it’s the perfect place to read in and read about, and you may be surprised just how many books it pops up in.
Can you match the Brighton quote to the book it appears in?
"In Lydia's imagination, a visit to Brighton comprised every possibility of earthly happiness. She saw, with the creative eye of fancy, the streets of that gay bathing place covered with officers. She saw herself the object of attention to tens and to scores of them at present unknown. She saw all the glories of the camp; its tents stretched forth in beauteous uniformity of lines, crowded with the young and the gay, and dazzling with scarlet; and to complete the view, she saw herself seated beneath a tent, tenderly flirting with at least six officers at once."
"This was 'Brightonitis' in action, for sure; you could almost see the city itself personified here, waking up bright and early on a beautiful day and hightailing down to the seafront DETERMINED to get high on life itself, just throwingballs and paddling boats and boinging up and down in the bungee like a big baby in its bouncer. And then, gradually, succumbing to the siren song of the stoner."
"Back in Brighton, we cruise along the seafront. The pier still sparkles with flashing lights, like a mini Vegas, but this evening grey clouds are partially covering a blue sky"
"From the pier the Brighton anglers flung their floats. A little music ground mournfully out into the windy sunlight. They walked on the sunny side past 'A Night of Love', 'For Men Only', 'The Fan Dancer'.
Rose asked, 'Is business bad?'
'There's always worries,' the Boy said.
"'Libby, baby, where do we live?'
'Brighton.'
'And where is Brighton?' he says, running a finger along the row of miniature bottles of liquor arranged on the bedside table and choosing a Smirnoff.
'Down south.'
'Which is about as far away from 'up north' as you can get without falling into the bloody sea.”
"I've been happy before and I've been happy after, but, swinging along the front at Brighton with Nora and our Uncle Perry, not a care in the world, it was the first time I was old enough and wise enough and knew my way about my own feelings well enough, to put it into words. ‘Goodness! I'm happy!' When I think of happiness, I always think of Brighton, and of that August bank holiday when I was thirteen, because we did the heights and depths, that day. How frail a thing your happiness can be! We went from the ridiculous to the sublime, and broke our hearts, as well"
"Here I was, somehow, sitting in a random park in the middle of Reading with people I didn't know. I thought with a sudden, unexpected pang of Brighton beach, with the uncomfortable, cold pebbles I'd complained about for years. The sea stretching out in front, the city behind and the two piers like goalposts in the night. You always knew where you were in Brighton."