The paintings seemed to bear the same relation to reality as prayers to the vision of God.

Men were made for war. Without it they wandered greyly about, getting under the feet of the women, who were trying to organize the really important things of life. When they couldn’t make war men made money – and trouble and a dreadful nuisance of themselves.

It was probable, I thought, that what I disliked in him was what Nour had disliked in me, and that the whole world was mad.

This perhaps is what is meant by hiraeth: a lifelong yearning for what is gona and out of reach.

Well, I think adultery is a filthy habit,′ said Rose, ’like using someone else’s toothbrush.

Claudia’s the sort of girl who goes through life holding onto the sides.

There is a hint of despair in the cry of ‘I told you so,’ an element of disappointment in the apparent satisfaction when idols turn out to have clay feet. The human race, when it thinks it has proved that no one is superior, is partly gratified and partly depressed.

Death is the last enemy: once we’ve got past that I think everything will be alright.

Men love women, women love children; children love hamsters– it’s quite hopeless.

Optimism is the last resort of those in deep despair. There can’t be any optimists in heaven.