For a few minutes, maybe, life lingers in the tissues of some outlying regions of the body. Then, one by one, the lights go out and there is total blackness. And ifsome part of the non—entity we called George has indeed been absent at this moment of terminal shock, away out there on the deep water, then it will return to find itself homeless.

In ten minutes they will have arrived on campus. George will have to be George; the George they have named and will recognise. So now he consciously applies himself to thinking their thoughts, getting into their mood. With the skill of a veteran, he rapidly puts on the psychological makeup for this role he must play.

I'll bet Shakespeare compromised himself a lot; anybody who's in the entertainment industry does to some extent.

The town is an advertisement for itself; none of its charms are left to the visitor's imagination.

It seems to me that the real clue to your sexual orientation lies in your romantic feelings rather than your sexual feelings. If you are really gay, you are able to fall in love with a man, not just enjoy sex with him.

The paternalist is a sentimentalist at heart, and the sentimentalist is always potentially cruel.

Sometimes awful things have their own beauty.