“It's true: lives do drift apart for no obvious reason. We're all busy people,we can't spend our time simply trying to stay in touch. The test of a friendship is if it can weather these inevitable gaps.”
“I have to start my real life soon, before I die of boredom and frustration.”
“True learning only occurs when you love the subject you are studying and then the acquiring of knowledge is effortless because it is also a pleasure.”
“We keep a journal to entrap that collection of selves that forms us, the individual human being.”
“I felt shocked and then saddened. life does this to you sometimes - leads you up a path and then drops you in the shit, to mix a metaphor.”
“It terrifies me, the fragility of these moments in our lives.”
“Are our lives just the aggregate of the lies we've told? ('Lives' - the 'v' is silent.)”
“The pleasures of my life here are simple – simple, inexpensive and democratic. A warm hill of Marmande tomatoes on a roadside vendor’s stall. A cold beer on a pavement table of the Café de France – Marie Thérèse inside making me a sandwich au camembert. Munching the knob of a fresh baguette as I wander back from Sainte-Sabine. The farinaceous smell of the white dust raised by a breeze from the driveway. A cuckoo sounding the perfectly silent woods beyond the meadow. A huge grey, cerise, pink, orange and washed-out blue of a sunset seen from my rear terrace. The drilling of the cicadas at noon – the soft dialing-tone of the crickets at dusk slowly gathers. A good book, a hammock and a cold, beaded bottle of blanc sec. A rough red wine and steak frites. The cool, dark, shuttered silence of my bedroom – and, as I go to sleep, the prospect that all this will be available to me again, unchanged, tomorrow.”
“We talked filth for a pleasant half hour.”
“Every life is both ordinary and extraordinary - it is the respective proportion of those two categories that make that life appear interesting or humdrum.”
“There are things in life we don't understand, and when we meet them, all we can do is let them alone.”
“Those were the years when I was truly happy. Knowing that is both a blessing and a curse. It's good to acknowledge that you found true happiness in your life - in that sense your life has not been wasted. But to admit that you will never be happy like that again is hard.”
“But you can be too intelligent, I said. Sometimes it's not an asset it's a curse.”
“Humankind can tolerate only so much rejection.”
“We're not ready for it - for people our age to die. We think we're safe for a while, but it's a dream. No one's safe.”
“You think it begins to diminish with time, the pain, then it comes back and hits you with a rawness and freshness you had forgotten.”
“I experienced a form of grief so intense and pure I thought it would kill me.”
“Why does the sea induce these feelings of transcendence in us? Is it because an unobstructed view of overarching sky meeting endlessly stirring water is as close as we can come on this earth to a visual symbol of the infinite?”
“I love to use these phrases - 'with the greatest respect', 'in all modest', 'I humbly submit' - which in fact always imply the complete opposite.”
“Are there aspects of our lives - things we do, feel and think - that we daren't confess, even to ourselves, even in the absolute privacy of our private record.”
“When it's mutual, a man and a woman know, instinctively, wordlessly. They may do nothing about it, but the knowledge of that shared desire is out there in the world - as obvious as neon, saying: I want you, I want you, I want you.”
“I felt truly happy for the first time in years. Such moments should be logged and noted.”
“Because it seems to me that to be human you have to be able to compromise.”
“A warm sunny evening, the plash and gurgle of the waves in the rock pools, the rush of the cold gin. I thought for the first time of my novel, abandoned, all these years, and I came up, unprompted, with the perfect title. Octet. Octet by Logan Mountstuart. Perhaps I will surprise them all, yet.”
“Is it possible to live reasonably without lying? Do lies form the natural foundation of all human relationships, the thread that stitches our individual selves together?”
“A Horrible thought: could this be the pattern of my life ahead? Every ambition thwarted, every dream stillborn? But a seconds reflection tells me that what I'm currently experiencing is shared by all sentient, suffering human beings, except for the very, very few: the genuinely talented - the odd, rare genius - and, of course, the exceptionally lucky swine.”
“When I think of my youth, he went in, what we took for granted, what we assumed was for ever certain, for ever permanent.”
“It's amazing how sudden the effect is - it must be the result of a deep atavistic mating urge buried inside us. A glance and you think: 'Yes, this is the one, this one is right for me.' Every instinct in your body seems to sing in unison.”
“They are all about romance, about life's excitement and adventure and it's essential sadness and transience. They savour everything both fine and bittersweet that life has to offer us - a stoical in the hedonism.”
“I think it's easy to mistake understanding for empathy - we want empathy so badly. Maybe learning to make that distinction is part of growing up. It's hard and ugly to know somebody can understand you without even liking you.”
“Who are you anyway? What are you even doing here?”
“Haven,” she said quietly, peeking at him.
He gazed at her peculiarly. “Heaven? No, this definitely isn't Heaven. But I get why you’re confused, since I'm standing in front of you.” She stared at him, and he
cracked a smile. “I'm kidding. Well, kinda… I have been told I've taken a girl to Heaven a time or two.”
“Haven, not Heaven,” she said, louder than before. Nothing about the conversation made sense to her. “My name’s Haven.”
“Her friend - and her partner on the stage. You will not believe me, but making love to Kitty - a thing done in passion, but always, too, in shadow and silence, and with an ear half-cocked for the sound of footsteps on the stairs - making love to Kitty and posing at her side in a shaft of limelight, before a thousand pairs of eyes, to a script I knew by heart, in an attitude I had laboured for hours to perfect - these things were not so very different. A double act is always twice the act that the audience thinks it; beyond our songs, our steps, our bits of business with coins and canes and flowers, there was a private language, in which we held an endless, delicate exchange of which the crowd knew nothing. This was a language not of the tongue but of the body, its vocabulary the pressure of a finger or a palm, the nudging of a hip, the holding or breaking of a gaze, that said, You are too slow - you got too fast - not there but here - that's good - that's better! It was as if we walked before the crimson curtain, lay down upon the boards and kissed and fondled - and were clapped, and cheered, and paid for it!”
“Grammar is the greatest joy in life, don't you find?”
“Thieves respect property; they merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it.”
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