Dash it all, she’s an actress! Don’t take her so seriously. Actors don’t have opinions, my dear chap, still less do actresses. They have moods. Fads. Poses. Twenty-four-hour passions. There’s a lot wr...
But hatred was really not an emotion which he could sustain for any length of time, unless it was the obverse side of love.
Bogus Oxford men he could deal with, just as in his time he had known classics masters who had no Greek and parsons who had no divinity. Such men, confronted with proof of their deception, broke down...
And what am I thinking? I am thinking that a man who cannot speak clearly cannot think clearly.
After a lifetime of living by his wits and his considerable memory, he had given himself full time to the profession of forgetting.
Also took for granted that secret services were the only real measure of a nations political health, the only real expression of its subconscious.
It's necessary to understand what real intelligence work is. It will never cease. It's absolutely essential that we have it. At its best, it is simply the left arm of healthy governmental curiosity. I...
I think, increasingly, despite what we are being told is an ever more open world of communication, there is a terrible alienation in the ordinary man between what he is being told and what he secretly...
You have no idea how humiliating it was, as a boy, to suddenly have all your clothes, your toys, snatched by the bailiff. I mean we were a middle-class family, it's not as if it was happening up and d...
Without the bonds of ideological conflict to restrain us any more, our troubles are just beginning.
More cruelly: he feared her faith because, as a fully paid-up pessimist, he knew he had none.
Let us honour if we can the vertical man, though we value none but the horizontal one. Or
Breath and caught the
And marvelled at the self-regarding irrelevance of the ruling English mind.
You just happened to put your hand to your face and find it damp and you wondered what the hell Christ bothered to die for, if He ever died at all.
Yes, well, I always assume that businessmen are crooks, don't you, Harry? I'm sure we all do.
The row of villas which lines Western Avenue is like a row of pink graves in a field of grey; an architectural image of middle age. Their uniformity is the discipline of growing old, of dying without...
The driver was holding open the rear door. He was young and blond, a boy in his prime.
The defended softness, that’s what I look for in the gals.
Tessa distinguished absolutely between pain observed and pain shared. Pain observed is journalistic pain. It’s diplomatic pain. It’s television pain, over as soon as you switch off your beastly set. T...