Like some wines our love could neither mature nor travel.
It isn't. when you come to think of it a quite respectable trade, the detection of the innocent, for aren't lovers nearly always innocent? They have committed no crime, they are certain in their own m...
Her face looked ugly in the attempt to avoid tears; it was an ugliness which bound him to her more than any beauty could have done. It isn't being happy together, he thought as though it were a fresh...
He was like a child with haemophilia: every contact drew blood.
He was feeling happy. It was one of the strange discoveries a man can make that life, however you lead it, contains moments of exhiliration; there are always comparisons which can be made with worse t...
He felt the sad relief of a man who realizes that there is one love at least that no longer hurts him.
From childhood I had never believed in permanence, and yet I had longed for it.
Everything had seemed possibile. One could laugh at daydreams, but so long as you had the capacity to daydream, there was a chance that you might develop some of the qualities which you dreamed. It wa...
Everyday life seems so permanent and unshakable‒but, as I was reminded by these writers, it can be destroyed by a single phone call.
A man kept his character even when he was insane.
You'd taken my disbelief into Your love, keeping them to show me later, so that we could both laugh.
You talk too easily,’ the Boy said.‘Talk?’ Mr Prewitt said. ‘I could shake the world. Let them put me in the dock if they like. I’ll give them—revelation. I’ve sunk so deep I carry—’ he was shaken by...
You are all alike, you people. You never learn the truth--that God knows nothing.
Who could blame her for seeking my scars in return? When we are unhappy we hurt.
When you feel unable to change your bar you have become old.
What makes a man, without hope, cling to a few more minutes of existence?
What distant ancestors had given me this stupid conscience? Surely they were free of it when they raped and killed m their palaeolithic world.
This was hell then; it wasn't anything to worry about: it was just his own familiar room.
They had the comfort of not learning from experience.
They can print statistics and count the populations in hundreds of thousands, but to each man a city consists of no more than a few streets, a few houses, a few people. Remove those few and a city exi...