With the characteristic cunning of true love, she was already manipulating the future.
Human life is short, we don’t exist all that much. A pale brief flicker in the dark.
Suddenly, as if by the fiat of a wicked fairy, he had been utterly dispossessed.
But I had come to where I had never been before, the blessed point of sufficient desperation.
Then as she dwindled away to nothing he glided on towards me with increasing speed, his huge Jewish face growing like a great egg above the silken wings of his gown. I swung the sword in an arc before him but as it moved the blade came away and flew upwards into the winter darkness which had collected above us. Clinging in fear and guilt to what remained in my hand I recognized my father.
Are we not somehow compelled by love? I shall not let one day pass without giving you the assurance of mine. Surely there is a future for us together. I am yours yours yours.
Do you think it’s ever safe to say one’s happy?
She had dreamed of a separated man, a sad austere secluded man, a man with a great sorrow, an ascetic. She was a moth that wanted to be burnt by a cold cold flame.
I’m afraid I don’t know their address, but there it is, when people are gone they’re gone, isn’t it.
You can’t kiss me and vanish.
It seemed to echo away into the hidden spaces and honeycombs of the dark.
Every man is betrayed by his mother.
The grass on the other side of the road was a pullulating emerald green, the rocks that grew here and there among the grass were almost dazzlingly alight with little diamonds. The warm air met me in a wave, thick with land smells of earth and growth and flowers.
There’s nothing wrong with pornography. It’s good for you. If politicians stuck to pornography the world wouldn’t be in such a mess.
He awoke the next morning to an instant consciousness of disaster.
Sorrow can sometimes induce sleep.
It’s terrible that one doesn’t love people forever.
The calmness was the final tone of despair.
And she looked at her life and seemed to understand it and to grieve over it as if it were already over.
How irrevocably spoilt, down to its minutest detail, his world was now. Even the countryside was spoilt, the animals, the birds, the flowers. There was nowhere to run to.