Fantasy flows in where fact leaves a vacuum.

What a fine persecution—to be kept intrigued without ever quite being enlightened.

Seduced her? Every time I turned round she was up a library ladder. In the end I gave in. That reminds me—I spotted something between her legs that made me think of you.

You're familiar with the tragedies of antiquity, are you? The great homicidal classics?

The names for things don't come first. Words stagger after, hopelessly trying to become the sensation.

The House of Lords, an illusion to which I have never been able to subscribe - responsibility without power, the prerogative of the eunuch throughout the ages.

For 10 years of my life, 3 times a day, I thanked the Lord for what I was about to receive and thanked him again for what I had just received, and then we lost touch and I suddenly thought, where is he now