If Bertie was a god (a favourite fantasy), she would be manufacturing things there was a shortage of - bees, tigers, dormice - not flip-flops and phone covers and toothpaste.
It had probably been a long enough life. Yet suddenly it all seemed like an illusion, a dream that had happened to someone else. What an odd thing existence was.
Mum had a Charles-and-Diana wedding mug that had survived longer than the marriage itself. Mum had worshipped Princess Di and frequently lamented her passing. Gone, she would say, shaking her head in...
Ah, I know, Bridget said. For sure, you have the sixth sense. Mrs. Glover, wrestling with the plum pudding, snorted her disapproval. She was of the opinion that five senses were too many, let alone ad...
What does it matter what people do? At the end of the day we're all dead.
The only time you were safe was when you were dead.
Numinous," Ursula said, breaking the silence eventually. "There's a spark of the divine in the world -- not God, er'er done with God, but something. Is it love? Not silly romantic love, but something...
What if some day or night a demon were to steal after you into your loneliest loneliness and say to you: This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable...
Louise was an urbanite, she preferred the gut-thrilling sound of an emergency siren slicing through the night to the noise of country birds at dawn. Pub brawls, rackety roadworks, mugged tourists, the...
He was born a politician.No, Ursula thought, he was born a baby, like everyone else. And this is what he has chosen to become.
You couldn't necessarily judge a woman by the man she slept with. (Or could you?)
Ursula craved solitude but she hated loneliness
There were many things Viola could have said at this point. She had thought of all of them while gazing at the forest, the sacred river, the birds, ‘I’m sorry’ being foremost, but instead she told him...
Harold?’ ‘Poor man, I suppose
Bridget wiped her tears vigorously on her apron and said, Must get on with the tea.
Leaving
From here he could see the farmer's daughter in the yard, feeding the geese. Wasn't there a nursery rhyme in there somewhere? No, he was thinking of the farmer's wife, wasn't he?--cutting off tails wi...
Teddy shuddered. The idea of the sublime little bird being plucked from the sky, of its exquisite song being interrupted in full flight, was horrible to him.
Numinous, Ursula said, breaking the silence eventually. There's a spark of the divine in the world -- not God, er'er done with God, but something. Is it love? Not silly romantic love, but something mo...
Do you keep time in the same place that you save it? If so why is it always so difficult to find? It must be in a very safe place.