Miners Wife Quotes

The underlying attitude comes bursting out of his words: He believes his wife is keeping something of his away from him when she doesn’t want intimate contact. He sees sexual rights to a woman as akin to mineral rights to land—and he owns them.

Not for the first time he was conscious of emotional lights and shades in his wife that could not be categorized, could not be named as sensuous or emotional as such, perhaps derived from each and gave to each but in essence grew out of a deeper fund of temperament that he still could not altogether apprehend. The simple miner's daughter was not simple in character at all.

But partly led to diet my revenge, For that I do suspect the lusty Moor Hath leap’d into my seat: the thought whereof Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; And nothing can or shall content my soul Till I am even’d with him, wife for wife; Or, failing so, yet that I put the Moor At least into a jealousy so strong That judgement cannot cure.

Randoll burst through the blanket-door when he heard his lusty son, and his big miner’s hand fluttered like a moth from the damp head of the babe to his wife’s flushed cheek and back again, as if he didn’t know which of them he most wanted to touch.

Mr. Brooker, though out of work for two years, was a miner by trade, but he and his wife had been keeping shops of various kinds as a side line all their lives. At one time they had had a pub, but they had lost their licence for allowing gambling on the premises. I doubt whether any of their businesses had ever paid; they were the kind of people who run a business chiefly in order to have something to grumble about.

Meanwhile, two miles down the mine shaft, nineteen men sat in absolute darkness trying to figure out what to do. One of the groups included a man whose arm had been pinned between two timbers, and, out of earshot, the others discussed whether to amputate it or not. The man kept begging them to, but they decided against it and he eventually died. Both groups ran out of food and water and started to drink their own urine. Some used coal dust or bark from the timbers to mask the taste. Some were so hungry that they tried to eat chunks of coal as well. There was an unspoken prohibition against crying, though some men allowed themselves to quietly break down after the lamps died, and many of them avoided thinking about their families. Mostly they just thought about neutral topics like hunting. One man obsessed over the fact that he owed $1.40 for a car part and hoped his wife would pay it after he died. Almost immediately, certain men stepped into leadership roles. While there was still lamplight, these men scouted open passageways to see if they could escape and tried to dig through rockfalls that were blocking their path. When they ran out of water, one man went in search of more and managed to find a precious gallon, which he distributed to the others. These men were also instrumental in getting their fellow survivors to start drinking their own urine or trying to eat coal. Canadian psychologists who interviewed the miners after their rescue determined that these early leaders tended to lack empathy and emotional control, that they were not concerned with the opinions of others, that they associated with only one or two other men in the group, and that their physical abilities far exceeded their verbal abilities. But all of these traits allowed them to take forceful, life-saving action where many other men might not.

That day in Chartres they had passed through town and watched women kneeling at the edge of the water, pounding clothes against a flat, wooden board. Yves had watched them for a long time. They had wandered up and down the old crooked streets, in the hot sun; Eric remembered a lizard darting across a wall; and everywhere the cathedral pursued them. It is impossible to be in that town and not be in the shadow of those great towers; impossible to find oneself on those plains and not be troubled by that cruel and elegant, dogmatic and pagan presence. The town was full of tourists, with their cameras, their three-quarter coats, bright flowered dresses and shirts, their children, college insignia, Panama hats, sharp, nasal cries, and automobiles crawling like monstrous gleaming bugs over the laming, cobblestoned streets. Tourist buses, from Holland, from Denmark, from Germany, stood in the square before the cathedral. Tow-haired boys and girls, earnest, carrying knapsacks, wearing khaki-colored shorts, with heavy buttocks and thighs, wandered dully through the town. American soldiers, some in uniform, some in civilian clothes, leaned over bridges, entered bistros in strident, uneasy, smiling packs, circled displays of colored post cards, and picked up meretricious mementos, of a sacred character. All of the beauty of the town, all the energy of the plains, and all the power and dignity of the people seemed to have been sucked out of them by the cathedral. It was as though the cathedral demanded, and received, a perpetual, living sacrifice. It towered over the town, more like an affliction than a blessing, and made everything seem, by comparison with itself, wretched and makeshift indeed. The houses in which the people lived did not suggest shelter, or safety. The great shadow which lay over them revealed them as mere doomed bits of wood and mineral, set down in the path of a hurricane which, presently, would blow them into eternity. And this shadow lay heavy on the people, too. They seemed stunted and misshapen; the only color in their faces suggested too much bad wine and too little sun; even the children seemed to have been hatched in a cellar. It was a town like some towns in the American South, frozen in its history as Lot's wife was trapped in salt, and doomed, therefore, as its history, that overwhelming, omnipresent gift of God, could not be questioned, to be the property of the gray, unquestioning mediocre.

Dream House as Sodom Like Lot’s wife, you looked back, and like Lot’s wife, you were turned into a pillar of salt(44), but unlike Lot’s wife, God gave you a second chance and turned you human again, but then you looked back again and became salt and then God took pity and gave you a third, and over and again you lurched through your many reprieves and mistakes; one moment motionless and the next gangly, your soft limbs wheeling and your body staggering into the dirt, and then stiff as a tree trunk again with an aura of dust, then windmilling down the road as fire rains down behind you; and there has never been a woman as cartoonish as you—animal to mineral and back again. --- 44. Thompson, Motif-Index of Folk-Literature, Type C961.1, Transformation to pillar of salt for breaking taboo.

The Pasty was the time honored lunch of Cornish miners.  It was flaky pastry stuffed with a meat, potato, and vegetable, usually turnips.  Robert told me that Cornwall had been famous for Copper and Tin mining years ago.  The miners didn’t want to take the time to climb all the way out of the mines for lunch but needed a hot hearty meal.  So the women had come up with the Pasty.  In the old days besides the meat, potato, and vegetable, there had been some type of fruit put in at the end for desert.  The women would bring these to the miners fresh from the oven and lower them down.  They put different designs in the dough so the miners could identify their wife’s work and the markings were always put on the desert end so the men would know to eat it last. 

One miner at Robinson Deep Mines, Daniel, [...] claims that as an induna or "boss boy", he had sought the company of a "girlfriend", that is, a young Basotho man, because he was not authorized to go in town to "see women". However, when he got special permission to leave the mining complex, he recalls with barely suppressed emotion that, during such leaves, he would soon long to be reunited with his "boy-wife". He and his peers claimed that "[they] loved them better" and preferred them over the experienced (female) city streetwalkers.

He put his arm around her. “Tut, tut. If anything happens to me you will have much still to live for. This house and land will be yours. You will become principal shareholder in Wheal Leisure Mine. You will have a duty—to people and to the countryside…” She stopped him. “Nay, Ross, I shall have nothing. I shall be a beggar again. I shall be an unfledged miner’s wench—” “You’ll be a handsome young woman in your first twenties with a small estate and a load of debts. The best of your life will be ahead of you—” “I live only through you. You made me what I am. You think me into being handsome, you think me into being a squire’s wife—” “Stuff. You’d surely marry again. If I were gone there’d be men humming around here from all over the county. It isn’t flattery but the sober truth. You could take your pick of a dozen—” “I should never marry again. Never!

I know they have nice manners. They don’t care enough about the miners- at least, when they 'are not dangerous- not to be perfectly charming to anyone who cares enough to defend them. But you think of what that crowd did during the General Strike. Ask Mary Maud. We saw them with bared teeth all right when their class-privileges were in danger. It’s not people like that uncouth fool of a mine manager in Carey’s Main who are dangerous to the workers. They carry their own antidote. Decent people like that vicar’s wife will help the workers to do ’em in. But it’s these kindly wealthy people who play the devil with people like you, Joan. They are so reasonable and they can be so kind. It seems a shame to fight them, and after a while you’d find yourself not wanting to put things so strongly- it might hurt your new friends’ feelings.

Would that all was as well within the castle. Alas, that you have inflicted me with one Simus of the Hawk. Never mind the fact that Simus strides from his chambers to the mineral baths naked as a plucked chicken, smiling and greeting all and sundry with a cheerful smile. Never mind the fact that he and Warren have taken to weapons practice in the Great Hall, jumping from table to table swords in one hand, flagons in the other, fighting and laughing, and cursing each other, causing ladies to swoon and leaving heel marks on all the tables. Never mind that half the lords want to kill him, the other half want to befriend him and that all of the ladies seem entranced. Which includes my own Lady Wife, thank you very much. Oh no, the worst of it is that Simus is having relations with Dye-Mistress Mavis, or so the sounds echoing in the castle halls at all hours of the night announce to all and sundry. By his tradition, Simus does no wrong, or so Dye-Mistress Mavis has informed me, Warren, and the Archbishop. Further, when we confronted her, she told us in no uncertain terms that she is an adult and Master of her trade and that her behavior is none of our concern. She added something to the effect that you aren't the only one willing to make sacrifices for her guild. Which had the Archbishop clutching for his holy symbol. I think Dye-Mistress is only after the cloths that Simus wears like a peacock. I have tried to explain that to Simus, but he just smiles that wide smile of his and indicates that he sees no harm to being 'used'. The entire Court and Council is scandalized. They all come to me and complain, taking the greatest pleasure in going over every juicy detail.

answered, pulling on his overcoat. All the loneliness of the evening seemed to descend upon her at once then and she said with the suggestion of a whine in her voice, ‘Why don’t you take me with you some Saturday?’ ‘You?’ he said. ‘Take you? D’you think you’re fit to take anywhere? Look at yersen! An’ when I think of you as you used to be!’ She looked away. The abuse had little sting now. She could think of him too, as he used to be; but she did not do that too often now, for such memories had the power of evoking a misery which was stronger than the inertia that, over the years, had become her only defence. ‘What time will you be back?’ ‘Expect me when you see me,’ he said at the door. ‘Is’ll want a bite o’ supper, I expect.’ Expect him at whatever time his tipsy legs brought him home, she thought. If he lost he would drink to console himself. If he won he would drink to celebrate. Either way there was nothing in it for her but yet more ill temper, yet further abuse. She got up a few minutes after he had gone and went to the back door to look out. It was snowing again and the clean, gentle fall softened the stark and ugly outlines of the decaying outhouses on the patch of land behind the house and gently obliterated Scurridge’s footprints where they led away from the door, down the slope to the wood, through which ran a path to the main road, a mile distant. She shivered as the cold air touched her, and returned indoors, beginning, despite herself, to remember. Once the sheds had been sound and strong and housed poultry. The garden had flourished too, supplying them with sufficient vegetables for their own needs and some left to sell. Now it was overgrown with rampant grass and dock. And the house itself – they had bought it for a song because it was old and really too big for one woman to manage; but it too had been strong and sound and it had looked well under regular coats of paint and with the walls pointed and the windows properly hung. In the early days, seeing it all begin to slip from her grasp, she had tried to keep it going herself. But it was a thankless, hopeless struggle without support from Scurridge: a struggle which had beaten her in the end, driving her first into frustration and then finally apathy. Now everything was mouldering and dilapidated and its gradual decay was like a symbol of her own decline from the hopeful young wife and mother into the tired old woman she was now. Listlessly she washed up and put away the teapots. Then she took the coal-bucket from the hearth and went down into the dripping, dungeon-like darkness of the huge cellar. There she filled the bucket and lugged it back up the steps. Mending the fire, piling it high with the wet gleaming lumps of coal, she drew some comfort from the fact that this at least, with Scurridge’s miner’s allocation, was one thing of which they were never short. This job done, she switched on the battery-fed wireless set and stretched out her feet in their torn canvas shoes to the blaze. They were broadcasting a programme of old-time dance music: the Lancers, the Barn Dance, the Veleta. You are my honey-honey-suckle, I am the bee… Both she and

Kelvinist and Calvinist, schoolgirlishly light-hearted, she stood out in Manhattan like a Welsh miner at a bar mitzvah.

They had nothing. In their houses, there was nothing. At first. You had to stay in the dark of the huts a long while to make out what was on the walls. In the wife's hut a wavy pattern of broad white and ochre bands. In others - she did not know whether or not she was welcome where they dipped in and out all day from dark to light like swallows - she caught a glimpse of a single painted circle, an eye or target, as she saw it. In one dwelling where she was invited to enter there was the tail of an animal and a rodent skull, dried gut, dangling from the thatch. Commonly there were very small mirrors snapping at the stray beams of light like hungry fish rising. They reflected nothing. An impression - sensation - of seeing something intricately banal, manufactured, replicated, made her turn as if someone had spoken to her from back there. It was in the hut where the yokes and traces for the plough-oxen were. She went inside again and discovered insignia, like war medals, nailed just to the left of the dark doorway. The enamel emblem's Red Cross was foxed and pitted with damp, bonded with dirt to the mud and dung plaster that was slowly incorporating it. The engraved lettering on the brass arm-plaque had filled with rust. The one was a medallion of the kind presented to black miners who pass a First Aid exam on how to treat injuries likely to occur underground, the other was a black miner's badge of rank, the highest open to him. Someone from the mines; someone had gone to the gold mines and come home with these trophies. Or they had been sent home; and where was the owner? No one lived in this hut. But someone had; had had possessions, his treasure displayed. Had gone away, or died - was forgotten or was commemorated by the evidence of these objects left, or placed, in the hut. Mine workers had been coming from out of these places for a long, long time, almost as long as the mines had existed. She read the brass arm-plaque: Boss Boy.

HAJJAT MIREMBE 27604437939 AM A TRADITIONAL HERBALIST HEALER / SANGOMA/ A SPELL CASTER AND A SPIRITUAL HEALER FROM THE MOUNTAINS OF TANZANIA . AM VERY GOOD WHEN IT COMES TO CASTING SPELLS, BRINGING BACK YOUR EX, STOP CHEATING PARTNERS AND FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO GET MARRIED, STOP COURT CASES AND DIVORCE, CLEANSING YOU FROM BAD LUCK AND AFFECTED HOMES, I HAVE A SPECIAL HERB FOR YOU WOMEN WHO BADLY NEED CHILDREN AND YOU HAVE FAILED TO GET PREGNANT. MEN WHO CANT PERFORM AND YOUR WEAK / SMALL IN SIZE COME FOR MY SUPER BOASTER AND BECOME A WARRIOR IN BED MATTERS. WHEN FRIENDS FAMILY RELATIVES AND IN LAWS ARE BECOMING A PROBLEM TO YOU COME AND I SORT THEM OUT FOR YOU IMMEDIATELY. I CAN TREAT DISEASES IN YOUNGER CHILDREN AND THE VERY OLD PEOPLE WITH PAINS AND BODY SORES. I CAN STOP YOUR MAN / WIFE FROM SMOKING AND DRINKING IMMEDIATELY. LOOKING FOR A JOB OR PROMOTION AND FAVOUR FROM YOUR EMPLOYER PLEASE SEE ME AND YOU SHALL COME BACK WITH A SMILE. AM A PROFESSIONAL WITH EXPERIENCE SO I DEAL WITH SERIOUS MATURE PEOPLE. IF YOU HAVE BEEN BADLY AFFECTED BY VARIOUS HEALER WITHOUT GETTING HELP AND THOSE WITH UNFINISHED JOBS COME AND I WIPE YOUR TEARS. I MAMA AMADA I CAN CAST A SPELL ANYWERE IN THE WORLD AND I WORK ON YOU FROM ANY PLACE YOU ARE IMMEDIATELY.CALL OR WHATSAPP HAJJAT MIREMBE ON CONSULTATION / COUNSELING AND MINER TREATMENT My Work Is A Mixture Of African Traditional Spiritualism, Psychic Powers, Rituals, Native Healing, Spell Casting, All Of Which Are Designed To Take Care Of Whatever Adversity You May Face. My Solutions Are Tailor Designed Depending On The Nature Of Your Problem Or Adversity Healing. Am Well Qualified, Having Honed My Skills From Experiences And Tradition Passed Down Through The Centuries From My Forefathers. I Deal With Occult, Spiritual And The Paranormal. I Do Email, Phone And Private Readings And Consultations To Enable You Take Control Of The Situation. I Am A Traditional Healer, Spell Caster And Psychic Medium. I Could Help You To Connect With The Ancestors , Interpret Dreams, Diagnose Illness Through Divination With Bones, And Help You Heal Both Physical And Spiritual Illness. We Facilitate The Deepening Of Your Relationship To The Spirit World And The Ancestors. Working In Partnership With One's Ancestors Is A Gift Representing A Close Link With The Spirit Realm As A Mediator Between The Worlds.* If You Have Been Disappointed By Other Spell Casters And Healers Who Have Failed To Provide You With The Results They Promised You And You're Stuck With No Option Of Happiness, Its Time You Contact A Gifted Spiritual Healer And Spell Caster Who Will Sort Your Issues. It’s Never Too Late For Your Problems To Be Solved, It’s Time To Have A Change In Life For The Better And Don't Just Sit Back And Think Your Worst Situation Cannot Be Changed For Better, Its Time You Present Your Problem To A Gifted Spell Caster To Help Understand Your Life And The Way Forward. Ask Yourself The Following: -Is Your Love Life Falling Apart? -Do You Want Your Love To Grow Stronger? -Is Your Partner Losing Interest In You. -It’s Not Too Late To Fix Your Love Life. We Offer Solutions To Help Take Care Of Your Love Life. -We Strengthen Bonds In All Love Relationships And Marriage.. -We Create Loyalty And Everlasting Love Between Couples.. -We Recover Love And Happiness When Relationships Break Down. -We Bring Back Your Lost Love. -We Help You Look For The Best Suitable Partner When You Can’t Break The Cycle Of Loneliness.. -We May Help To Keep Your Partner Faithful And Loyal To You.

SANGOMA/LOVE SPELL +2(760) 443-7939 A TRADITIONAL HEALER in Worcester , Zeerust , cosmo city, randburg, Sasolburg, vanderbiljpark, Postmasburg, Botswana, GaboroneN elspruit , Paarl, Qumbu , Randfontein , Siyabuswa , Somerset East , Verulam , Vryeheid HAJJAT MIREMBE +2(760) 443-7939 AM A TRADITIONAL HERBALIST HEALER / SANGOMA/ A SPELL CASTER AND A SPIRITUAL HEALER FROM THE MOUNTAINS OF TANZANIA . AM VERY GOOD WHEN IT COMES TO CASTING SPELLS, BRINGING BACK YOUR EX, STOP CHEATING PARTNERS AND FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO GET MARRIED, STOP COURT CASES AND DIVORCE, CLEANSING YOU FROM BAD LUCK AND AFFECTED HOMES, I HAVE A SPECIAL HERB FOR YOU WOMEN WHO BADLY NEED CHILDREN AND YOU HAVE FAILED TO GET PREGNANT. MEN WHO CANT PERFORM AND YOUR WEAK / SMALL IN SIZE COME FOR MY SUPER BOASTER AND BECOME A WARRIOR IN BED MATTERS. WHEN FRIENDS FAMILY RELATIVES AND IN LAWS ARE BECOMING A PROBLEM TO YOU COME AND I SORT THEM OUT FOR YOU IMMEDIATELY. I CAN TREAT DISEASES IN YOUNGER CHILDREN AND THE VERY OLD PEOPLE WITH PAINS AND BODY SORES. I CAN STOP YOUR MAN / WIFE FROM SMOKING AND DRINKING IMMEDIATELY. LOOKING FOR A JOB OR PROMOTION AND FAVOUR FROM YOUR EMPLOYER PLEASE SEE ME AND YOU SHALL COME BACK WITH A SMILE. AM A MATURE MEN WITH EXPERIENCE SO I DEAL WITH SERIOUS MATURE PEOPLE. IF YOU HAVE BEEN BADLY AFFECTED BY VARIOUS HEALER WITHOUT GETTING HELP AND THOSE WITH UNFINISHED JOBS COME AND I WIPE YOUR TEARS. I MAMA AMADA I CAN CAST A SPELL ANYWERE IN THE WORLD AND I WORK ON YOU FROM ANY PLACE YOU ARE IMMEDIATELY.CALL OR WHATSAPP HAJJAT MIREMBE ON CONSULTATION / COUNSELING AND MINER TREATMENT My Work Is A Mixture Of African Traditional Spiritualism, Psychic Powers, Rituals, Native Healing, Spell Casting, All Of Which Are Designed To Take Care Of Whatever Adversity You May Face. My Solutions Are Tailor Designed Depending On The Nature Of Your Problem Or Adversity Healing. Am Well Qualified, Having Honed My Skills From Experiences And Tradition Passed Down Through The Centuries From My Forefathers. I Deal With Occult, Spiritual And The Paranormal. I Do Email, Phone And Private Readings And Consultations To Enable You Take Control Of The Situation. I Am A Traditional Healer, Spell Caster And Psychic Medium. I Could Help You To Connect With The Ancestors , Interpret Dreams, Diagnose Illness Through Divination With Bones, And Help You Heal Both Physical And Spiritual Illness. We Facilitate The Deepening Of Your Relationship To The Spirit World And The Ancestors. Working In Partnership With One's Ancestors Is A Gift Representing A Close Link With The Spirit Realm As A Mediator Between The Worlds.* If You Have Been Disappointed By Other It’s Never Too Late For Your Problems To Be Solved, It’s Time To Have A Change In Life For The Better And Don't Just Sit Back And Think Your Worst Situation Cannot Be Changed For Better, Its Time You Present Your Problem To A Gifted Spell Caster To Help Understand Your Life And The Way Forward. Ask Yourself The Following: -Is Your Love Life Falling Apart? -Do You Want Your Love To Grow Stronger? -Is Your Partner Losing Interest In You. -It’s Not Too Late To Fix Your Love Life. We Offer Solutions To Help Take Care Of Your Love Life. -We Strengthen Bonds In All Love Relationships And Marriage.. -We Create Loyalty And Everlasting Love Between Couples.. -We Recover Love And Happiness When Relationships Break Down. -We Bring Back Your Lost Love. -We Help You Look For The Best Suitable Partner When You Can’t Break The Cycle Of Loneliness.. -We May Help To Keep Your Partner Faithful And Loyal To You. -We Could Create Everlasting Love Between Couples.. -Attract A New Lover. -Remove Hexes, Curses And Witchcraft Spells Cast Upon You.

HAJJAT MIREMBE +2(760) 443-7939 AM A TRADITIONAL HERBALIST HEALER / SANGOMA/ A SPELL CASTER AND A SPIRITUAL HEALER FROM THE MOUNTAINS OF TANZANIA . AM VERY GOOD WHEN IT COMES TO CASTING SPELLS, BRINGING BACK YOUR EX, STOP CHEATING PARTNERS AND FOR THOSE WHO WANT TO GET MARRIED, STOP COURT CASES AND DIVORCE, CLEANSING YOU FROM BAD LUCK AND AFFECTED HOMES, I HAVE A SPECIAL HERB FOR YOU WOMEN WHO BADLY NEED CHILDREN AND YOU HAVE FAILED TO GET PREGNANT. MEN WHO CANT PERFORM AND YOUR WEAK / SMALL IN SIZE COME FOR MY SUPER BOASTER AND BECOME A WARRIOR IN BED MATTERS. WHEN FRIENDS FAMILY RELATIVES AND IN LAWS ARE BECOMING A PROBLEM TO YOU COME AND I SORT THEM OUT FOR YOU IMMEDIATELY. I CAN TREAT DISEASES IN YOUNGER CHILDREN AND THE VERY OLD PEOPLE WITH PAINS AND BODY SORES. I CAN STOP YOUR MAN / WIFE FROM SMOKING AND DRINKING IMMEDIATELY. LOOKING FOR A JOB OR PROMOTION AND FAVOUR FROM YOUR EMPLOYER PLEASE SEE ME AND YOU SHALL COME BACK WITH A SMILE. AM A MATURE MEN WITH EXPERIENCE SO I DEAL WITH SERIOUS MATURE PEOPLE. IF YOU HAVE BEEN BADLY AFFECTED BY VARIOUS HEALER WITHOUT GETTING HELP AND THOSE WITH UNFINISHED JOBS COME AND I WIPE YOUR TEARS. I MAMA AMADA I CAN CAST A SPELL ANYWERE IN THE WORLD AND I WORK ON YOU FROM ANY PLACE YOU ARE IMMEDIATELY.CALL OR WHATSAPP HAJJAT MIREMBE ON CONSULTATION / COUNSELING AND MINER TREATMENT My Work Is A Mixture Of African Traditional Spiritualism, Psychic Powers, Rituals, Native Healing, Spell Casting, All Of Which Are Designed To Take Care Of Whatever Adversity You May Face. My Solutions Are Tailor Designed Depending On The Nature Of Your Problem Or Adversity Healing. Am Well Qualified, Having Honed My Skills From Experiences And Tradition Passed Down Through The Centuries From My Forefathers. I Deal With Occult, Spiritual And The Paranormal. I Do Email, Phone And Private Readings And Consultations To Enable You Take Control Of The Situation.