He did not like the grown-ups who talked down to him, but the ones who went on talking in their usual way, leaving him to leap along in their wake, jumping at meanings, guessing, clutching at known words, and chuckling at complicated jokes as they suddenly dawned. He had the glee of the porpoise then, pouring and leaping through strange seas.
T. H. WhiteIf it takes a million years for a fish to become a reptile, has Man, in our few hundred, altered out of recognition?
T. H. WhiteThe race will find that capitalists and communists modify themselves so much during the ages that they end by being indistinguishable as democrats.
T. H. WhiteThey had a year of joy, twelve months of the strange heaven which the salmon know on beds of river shingle, under the gin-clear water. For twenty-four years they were guilty, but this first year was the only one which seemed like happiness. Looking back on it, when they were old, they did not remember that in this year it had ever rained or frozen. The four seasons were coloured like the edge of a rose petal for them.
T. H. WhiteWar is like a fire. One man may start it, but it will spread all over. It is not about any one thing in particular.
T. H. WhiteA chaos of mind and body - a time for weeping at sunsets and at the glamour of moonlight - a confusion and profusion of beliefs and hopes, in God, in Truth, in Love, and in Eternity - an ability to be transported by the beauty of physical objects - a heart to ache or swell- a joy so hoyful and a sorrow so sorrowful that oceans could lie between them.
T. H. White