55 Quotes by David Lodge

to read is to surrender oneself to an endless displacement of curiosity and desire from one sentence to another, from one action to another, from one level of a text to another. The text unveils itself before us, but never allows itself to be possessed; and instead of trying to possess it we should take pleasure in its teasing

To some people, there is no noise on earth as exciting as the sound of three or four big fan-jet engines rising in pitch, as the plane they are sitting in swivels at the end of the runway and, straining against its brakes, prepares for takeoff. The very danger in the situation is inseparable from the exhilaration it yields. You are strapped into your seat now, there is no way back, you have delivered yourself into the power of modern technology. You might as well lie back and enjoy it.

Think of a ball of steel as large as the world, and a fly alighting on it once every million years. When the ball of steel is rubbed away by the friction, eternity will not even have begun.

perhaps it will I said perhaps it will be wonderful perhaps even though it won't be like you think perhaps that won't matter perhaps

... Pope John Paul I had died and been succeeded by John Paul II, the first non-Italian pope for four hundred and fifty years: a Pole, a poet, a philosopher, a linguist, an athlete, a man of destiny, dramatically chosen, instantly popular - but theologically conservative. A changing Church acclaims a Pope who evidently thinks that change has gone far enough. What will happen now? All bets are void, the future is uncertain, but it will be interesting to watch. Reader, farewell!

Adam había sacado la conclusión que, de todas las industrias del país, la reparación de vespas era la que representaba una mayor sobredemanda respecto a la oferta. En teoría, a quien se dispusiese a satisfacer esa demanda le esperaba una fortuna; pero en el fondo de su corazón Adam dudaba de que las vespas fuesen reparables, en el sentido normal del término; eran las mariposas de la carretera, organismos frágiles que tardaban mucho en ser fabricados y muy poco en morir.

Una curva de la calle puso ante su vista el campanario de la catedral de Westminster, la forma fálica más descarada del horizonte londinense.

Cambiando de postura en el sillín, Adam pensó que la forma en que su humilde vida seguía los moldes de la literatura tenía algo como de metempsicosis. ¿O quizá -se preguntó, hurgándose la nariz- era consecuencia de estudiar tan detenidamente las estructuras de las frases de los novelistas ingleses? Uno se había resignado a no tener ya un lenguaje privado, pero se aferraba melancólicamente a la ilusión de poseer los hechos de su vida.

Cica in fiecare grasan se afla cate-un slabanog care se lupta sa iasa la lumina, iar eu unul ii aud strigatele inabusite ori de cate ori ma uit in oglinda.