Butter was plastered on to the roll with no regard for the hard labor of the cow
Being flippant was harder work than being earnest
The doors of perception are hanging crazily off their hinges these days.
What was that from? ? But perhaps, truth was asleep until the end of reckoning. There was going to be an awful lot of reckoning when the time came.
It was extraordinary how far you could go in London and barely touch a pavement or cross a road.
I'm a shadow of my former self, she announces. Vinny was a shadow to begin with, now she's a shadow of a shadow.
Her soft soul had crystallized. (Just as well, she thought.) She was a sword tempered in the fire.
He noticed that Ursula’s ox-eye daisies, wrapped in damp newspaper, were drooping, almost dead. Nothing could be kept, he thought, everything ran through one’s fingers like sand or water. Or time. Per...
Fat people weren’t supposed to eat anything, but they were especially not supposed to eat confectionery,
Chivalry requireth that youth should be trained to perform the most laborious and humble offices with cheerfulness and grace.
Because that was how it happened: one moment you were there, laughing, talking, breathing, and the next you were gone. Forever. And there wasn’t even a shape left in the world where you’d been, neithe...
Ah, but the rich are different,’ the footman said, ‘they take a lot more looking after.
But how could you spoil a child—by neglect, yes, but not by love. You had to give them all the love you could, even though giving that much love could cause you pain and anguish and horror and, in the...
It was the war, Juliet thought, remembering the photograph of the flamingo’s creased wife, it has made refugees of us all.
It was funny because she thought of herself as a good team player, although sometimes she suspected that no one else on her team did.
If she had been in charge of designing the human race she would have gone about things differently. (A golden shaft of light through the ear for conception perhaps and a well-fitting hatch somewhere m...
I can't help but think that it's an unfortunate custom to name children after people who come to sticky ends. Even if they are fictional characters, it doesn't bode well for the poor things. There are...
Don’t let your imagination run away with you... But why would you not when the reality was so awful?
Dear God. When did language and meaning divorce each other and decide to go their separate ways?
Civilizations rose and fell and in the end everything was dust and sand. Nothing beside remained. Hotels, maybe.