Memory, that exhausted repertory actor, going through the exhausted, familiar lines of some tired melodrama. It moved through the now meaningless scenes with a terrible practised proficiency for her benefit alone; and she was in the wings, condemned to watch it over and over

-Philip Hensher

Select a background
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image
Awesome background image

More quotes by Philip Hensher