I read and I read; and I was like a medieval king, I had fallen in love with the picture long before I saw the reality.

I must fight with my weapons. Not his. Not selfishness and brutality and shame and resentment.

An easterly is the most disagreeable wind in Lyme Bay — Lyme Bay being that largest bite from the underside of England's outstretched southwestern leg — and a person of curiosity could at once have deduced several strong probabilities about the pair who began to walk down the quay at Lyme Regis, the small but ancient eponym of the inbite, one incisively sharp and blustery morning in the late March of 1867.

There are only two races on this planet - the intelligent and the stupid.

The craving to risk death is our last great perversion. We come from night, we go into night. Why live in night?

Thomas Beecham was a pompous little band-master who stood against everything creative in the art of his time.

The supposed great misery of our century is the lack of time.