Writing is like walking in a deserted street. Out of the dust in the street you make a mud pie.
Power expands through the distribution of secrecy.
A good man knows when to sacrifice himself, a bad man survives but loses his soul.
Survival...is an infinite capacity for suspicion.
During the Cold War, we lived in coded times when it wasn't easy and there were shades of grey and ambiguity.
Smiley was soaked to the skin and God as a punishment had removed all taxis from the face of London.