She keeps on hoping from a word from Penelope, but not in any strenuous way. She hopes as people who know better hope for undeserved blessings, spontaneous remissions, things of that sort.

That's something I think is growing on me as I get older: happy endings.

They were all in their early thirties. An age at which it is sometimes hard to admit that what you are living is your life.

She keeps on hoping from a word from Penelope, but not in any strenuous way. She hopes as people who know better hope for undeserved blessings, spontaneous remissions, things of that sort.

People’s lives, in Jubilee as elsewhere, were dull, simple, amazing, and unfathomable – deep caves paved with kitchen linoleum.

He was evidently the sort of person who posed questions that were traps for you to fall into.

The skin of everyday appearances stretched over such shamelessness, such consuming explosions of lust.