For A Good Man Fame Is Always

One Never Knows Enough About Characters In Real Life To Put Them Into Novels. One Gets Started And Then, Suddenly, One Can Not Remember What Toothpaste They Use; What Are Their Views On Interior Decoration, And One Is Stuck Utterly. No, Major Characters Emerge; Minor Ones May Be Photographed.

One's Life Is More Formed, I Sometimes Think, By Books Than By Human Beings: It Is Out Of Books One Learns About Love And Pain At Second Hand. Even If We Have The Happy Chance To Fall In Love, It Is Because We Have Been Conditioned By What We Have Read, And If I Had Never Known Love At All, Perhaps It Was Because My Father's Library Had Not Contained The Right Books.

There Are Times When A Lover Longs To Be Also A Father And A Brother: He Is Jealous Of The Years He Hasn't Shared.

She Had Lost All Our Memories For Ever, And It Was As Though By Dying She Had Robbed Me Of Part Of Myself. I Was Losing My Individuality. It Was The First Stage Of My Own Death, The Memories Dropping Off Like Gangrened Limbs.

What Happens If You Drop All The Things That Make You I?