[T]ea, that uniquely English meal, that unnecessary collation at which no stimulants--neither alcohol nor meat--are served, that comforting repast of which to partake is as good as second childhood.

We must all make do with the rags of love we find flapping on the scarecrow of humanity.

The end of exile is the end of being.

What would the daughters of the rich do with themselves if the poor ceased to exist?

Reading a book is like re-writing it for yourself. You bring to a novel, anything you read, all your experience of the world. You bring your history and you read it in your own terms.

Strangers used to gather together at the cinema and sit together in the dark, like Ancient Greeks participating in the mysteries, dreaming the same dream in unison.

Home is where the heart is and hence a movable feast.