Mind, I am not preaching anything contrary to accepted morality. I am not advocating free love in this or any other case. Society must go on, I suppose, and society can only exist if the normal, if the virtuous, and the slightly deceitful flourish, and if the passionate, the headstrong, and the too-truthful are condemned to suicide and madness.

We are all so afraid, we are all so alone, we all so need from the outside the assurance of our own worthiness to exist.

If you hunch your shoulders too long against a storm your shoulders will grow bowed.

Ford's last Fifth Queen novel is amazing. The whole cycle is a noble conception.

He added that a Frenchman in the train had given him a great sandwich that so stank of garlic that he had been inclined to throw it at the fellow's head.

He thought he suddenly understood. For the Lincon-shire sergeant-major the word Peace meant that a man could stand up on a hill. For him it meant someone to talk to.

It was an odd friendship, but the oddnesses of friendships are a frequent guarantee of their lasting texture.