Love of life is born of the awareness of death, of the dread of it.
Look my friend, I've got to commit a murder tonight. Not you. Me. So be a good chap and stuff it, would you?
Le Chiffre was serving a wonderful purpose, a really vital purpose, perhaps the best and highest purpose of all. By his evil existence, which foolishly I have helped to destroy, he was creating a norm...
LE CHIFFRE looked incuriously at him, the whites of his eyes, which showed all round the irises, lending something impassive and doll-like to his gaze. He slowly removed one thick hand from the table...
I’m behaving like a pig,’ she said happily. ‘You always give me all the things I like best. I’ve never been so spoiled before.’ She gazed across the terrace at the moonlit bay. ‘I wish I deserved it.’...
I think it's the same with all the relationships between a man and a woman. They can survive anything so long as some kind of basic humanity exists between the two people. When all kindness has gone,...
He was used to oblique control and rather liked it. He felt it feather-bedded him a little, allowed him to give or take an hour or two in his communications with M.
But I am greedy for life. I do too much of everything all the time. Suddenly one day my heart will fail. The Iron Crab will get me as it got my father. But I am not afraid of The Crab. At least I shal...
And then there was this pest of a girl. He sighed. Women were for recreation. On a job, they got in the way and fogged things up with sex and hurt feelings and all the emotional baggage they carried a...
Heroin pipeline whose outlet is Beirut. These eighteen men, all experts in conspiracy, in the highest ranges of secret communication and action and, above all, of silence, also shared one supreme virt...
Clean-shaven and dressed in the conventional disguise with which Brooks Brothers cover the shame of American millionaires.
When she had failed once or twice to respond to some conversational gambit or other, Bond also relapsed into silence and occupied himself with his own gloomy thoughts.
There was a scream of tortured rubber as the tyres caught the boulevard in a harsh left-handed turn, the deafening echo of a Citroën’s exhaust in second gear, a crash into top, then a swiftly diminish...
Stupefied, but unharmed, he allowed Mathis to lead him off towards the Splendide from which guests and servants were pouring in chattering fright. As the distant clang of bells heralded the arrival of...
Put your guns away and get him out,’ he ordered brusquely. ‘I’ll keep you covered. Be careful of him. I don’t want a corpse. And hurry up, it’s getting light.
Mania, my dear Mister Bond, is as priceless as genius. Dissipation
In his particular line of business, peace had reigned for nearly a year. And peace was killing him.
IT WAS twelve o’clock when Bond left the Splendide and the clock on the ‘mairie’ was stumbling through its midday carillon.
He shrugged his shoulders to shift the pain of failure – the pain of failure that is so much greater than the pleasure of success.
He cursed himself and cursed the hubris which had made him so sure the battle was won and the enemy in flight.