Certain books come to meet me, as do people.

... in general, the Anglo-Irish do not make good dancers; they are too spritely and conscious; they are incapable of one kind of trance or of being seemingly impersonal. And, for the formal, pure dance they lack the formality: about their stylishness (for they have stylishness) there is something impromptu, slightly disorderly.

The silence of a shut park does not sound like country silence: it is tense and confined.

Sins cut boldly up through every class in society, but mere misdemeanours show a certain level in life.

There's something so showy about desperation, it takes hard wits to see it's a grandiose form of funk.

Silences can be as different as sounds.

I know that I have in my make-up layers of synthetic experiences, and that the most powerful of my memories are only half true.