I had better spend the day quietly, sleep in the afternoon perhaps, and then start again hunting for Hugo. I would have much preferred to look for Anna. But I had no idea now where to start looking. A...
I rather liked him.I asked him to come and see us.'‘Oh Christ !’‘But, Bradley, you mustn’t reject people,you musn't just write them of. You must be curious about them. Curiosity is kind of charity.’‘I...
Instintivamente se sentía identificado con aquellos héroes que comenzaban con H. Homero. Hannibal. Hobbes. Hume. Hamlet. Hitler. Qué cuadrilla. Sólo su propio nombre parecía algo vacío, una especie de...
It is necessary to write, that much is clear, and to write in a way quite unlike any way which I have employed before.
It was a piece of thoroughly picturesque and proper violence. I like a violent man, really, a man who's a bit of a brute in a decent straightforward way.
Love is no respecter of ages, everyone knows that.
Outsiders who see rules and not the love that runs through them are often too ready to label other people as 'prisoners'.
Perhaps the crime was that of letting himself be loved so much more than he loved.
So we live; a spirit that broods and hovers over the continual death of time, the lost meaning, the unrecaptured moment, the unremembered face, until the final chop that ends all our moments and plung...
T. S. Eliot and Jean-Paul Sartre, dissimilar enough as thinkers, both tend to undervalue prose and to deny it any function. Poetry is the creation of linguistic quasi-things; prose is for explanation...
The bicycle is the most civilized conveyance known to man. Other forms of transport grow daily more nightmarish. Only the bicycle remains pure in heart.
The idea of attention or contemplation, of looking carefully at something and it before the mind, may be conveyed early on in childhood. 'Look, listen, isn't that nice?' Also, 'Don't touch!' This is...
There was something factitious and brittle and thereby utterly feminine about her charm which made me want to crush her, even to crunch her. She had a slight cast in one eye which gives her gaze a str...
Toby had received, though not yet digested, one of the earliest lessons of adult life: that one is never secure. At any moment one can be removed from a state of guileless serenity and plunged into it...
Violence is born of the desire to escape oneself.
We are clay and nothing is real for us except the uncanny womb of Being into which we shall return.
What an extraordinary satisfaction there is in cleaning things! (Does the satisfaction depend on ownership? I suspect so.)
When the sun was set I might perhaps go to sleep. I never let myself sleep during the day. Daytime sleep is a cursed slumber from which one wakes in despair. The sun will not tolerate it. If he can he...
Let us not waste love, it is rare enough
We shall be better prepared for the future if we see how terrible, how doomed the present is.
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