Jennifer had never liked the pain of remembering what had happened, but for Theo it was the pain that kept Laura alive in his memory. He was afraid that if it ever began to heal she would disappear.
It would be like a Hardy novel, before it all goes wrong.
It was possible, she thought, that she had won the race to reach the end of civilization. There was no prize. Obviously.
It was a long time ago now. And it was yesterday.
In the end, it is my belief, words are the only things that can construct a world that makes sense.
I, of course, am considered mad, bad and dangerous to know.
I loved him so much. Love him so much. I don’t know why I use the past tense. It’s not as if love dies with the beloved.
I like this dog, he said, rubbing the dog’s head. He’s a very straightforward kind of dog.
I know, Ursula said, it’s like the Emperor’s new clothes.
I feel as if I’m waiting for something dreadful to happen, and then I realize it already has.
I don't think I'd mind working on a cheese counter. It would leave my mind free to do whatever it wanted - which is nothing in particular, it's true, but I like being alone in my head, I'm used to it.
How useful Mr. Carver’s Esperanto would be, she thought. (Only if everyone spoke it, of course.)
How calm the house was. How deceptive that could be. One could lose everything in the blink of an eye, the slip of a foot. One must avoid dark thoughts at all costs, she said to Ursula.
Her heart swelled with the high holiness of it all. Imminence was all around. She was both warrior and shining spear. She was a sword glinting in the depths of night, a lance of light piercing the dar...
He had taken a few days' leave from his army training and they had taken refuge in the Charing Cross Hotel while an unexploded bomb in the Strand was being dealt with. They could hear the naval guns t...
From the open French windows Sylvie watched Maurice erecting a makeshift tennis net, which mostly seemed to involve whacking everything in sight with a mallet. Small boys were a mystery to Sylvie. The...
Fifty-five thousand, five hundred and seventy-three dead from Bomber Command. Seven million German dead, including the five hundred thousand killed by the Allied bombing campaign. The sixty million de...
Fiction had never been Jackson's thing. Facts seemed challenging enough without making stuff up. What he discovered was that the great novels of the world were about three things - death, money and se...
Do not tell secrets to those whose faith and silence you have not already tested. Eva
Discretion being the better part of valour,