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

A Bowen, in the first place, made Bowen's Court. Since then, with a rather alarming sureness, Bowen's Court has made all the succeeding Bowens.

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

... love dreads being isolated, being left to speak in a void -- at the beginning it would often rather listen than speak.

we can surmount the anger we feel. To find oneself like a young tree inside a tomb is to discover the power to crack the tomb and grow up to any height.

First love, with its frantic haughty imagination, swings its object clear of the everyday, over the rut of living, making him all looks, silences, gestures, attitudes, a burning phrase with no context.

I do like Italian graves; they look so much more lived in.