527 Quotes by Ian McEwan

Como pode uma escritora expiar os seus pecados se, com o poder absoluto de decidir o final, é em certa medida Deus? Não há ninguém, nenhuma entidade, nenhum ser superior a quem ela possa apelar, com quem possa reconciliar-se ou que possa perdoar-lhe.

As if marriages were a series of corrected drafts.

This commonplace cycle of falling asleep and waking, in darkness, under private cover, with another creature, a pale soft tender mammal, putting faces together in a ritual of affection, briefly settled in the eternal necessities of warmth, comfort, safety, crossing limbs to draw nearer - a simple daily consolation, almost too obvious, easy to forget by daylight.

Especially difficult when the first and best unconscious move of a dedicated liar is to persuade himself he's sincere. And once he's sincere, all deception vanishes.

It's at moments like these in a game that the essentials of his character are exposed: narrow, ineffectual, stupid—and morally so. The game becomes an extended metaphor of character defect. Every error he makes is so profoundly, so irritatingly typical of himself, instantly familiar, like a signature, like a tissue scar or some deformation in a private place.

Or he was simply pretending—like many drinkers, he liked to think each new day drew a line under the day before.

Older men were better companions, they were seasoned lovers, they knew the world, they knew themselves. Unlike younger men, they held their emotions in balance. They had read more, seen more, they were warmer, kinder, less boastful, more tolerant, less violent. They were more interesting, they could choose the wine. They had more money.

She was like a bride-to-be who begins to feel her sickening qualms as the day approaches, and dares not speak her mind because so many preparations have been made on her behalf the happiness and convenience of so many good people would be put at risk.

Briony era una di quelle bambine possedute dal desiderio che al mondo fosse tutto assolutamente perfetto.