Trader Joe's and Aldi have a certain sentimentality to them. So do Journey and Bryan Adams. Certain landmarks in Central Park: that bridge we walked on during the wedding, that gazebo he proposed in when it was raining, that archway hung with vines we walked through. I remember that.
There is one main question Alexandre Dumas asks the reader in the book: Are you rich, or is your life rich? Dumas even uses Edmond Dantes to illustrate this. At the beginning of the book, Edmond is poor, but he has his father, Mercedes, and a promotion in a company in which he works for someone who's like a second father to him. When he's rich, he doesn't feel himself enriched.
Ha! Oh, sorry. Was I not supposed to laugh? I was portrayed as this weak, classically feminine character that was always getting rescued and never saving herself. It was as though Robin never found me in the middle of my fencing lessons or riding lessons, or actually riding a horse. However, I was always followed by my governess, whose only job by then was to make sure my virginity remained intact until I got married. Between her and that chastity belt, I felt stifled enough.
A rich man saw that his daughter, Elizabeth, was good with money, so he bragged to his brother that she could run his pawn shop for him.
Ananse. I just can't with him. Even when he's in a good mood, he'll trick people just to test their patience and sense of humor about themselves. They're not those accepting smart jokes. It's like he gets this sick, sadistic pleasure out of seeing the reaction of his victims, especially when he's angry with them. It's this look of dark glee. It makes me hate him for it. I think he likes pushing the envelope, but it's not to see how far they'll let him go, but to push their buttons. He loves enslaving them to him through the anger they feel at him. It makes him feel powerful.