Showing posts tagged quotes
He was big and sturdy, with a heavy jaw and a voice that made her want to curl up and ride in his pocket like a kitten.
Richard Yates, The Easter Parade
A not-very-cheerful thought for Valentine’s Day from LIFE magazine (12 February 1940).
But don’t worry, hopeful spinsters. It could be worse. You could be living in the mid-19th century and feeling really miserable!

A not-very-cheerful thought for Valentine’s Day from LIFE magazine (12 February 1940).

But don’t worry, hopeful spinsters. It could be worse. You could be living in the mid-19th century and feeling really miserable!

Away from the set of 221b Baker Street, Martin Freeman, who plays John, refers to his senior partner as Lord Cumberbatch. Or Cumberlord for short. He even calls him that to his face.

Radio Times  (via ununpentium)

Cumberlords a-leaping!

(Reblogged from ununpentium)
A man in love drifts, and is hopelessly susceptible to scenery…
Patrick Hamilton, The Midnight Bell
A strange child, perhaps, but I wouldn’t give a pinch of dust for a child who was not strange. Is not every child strange, by adult accounting, if we could only learn to know it? If it has no strangeness, what is the use of it? To grow up into another humanoid turnip?
Robertson Davies, The Rebel Angels
‘My story is true,’ he said, ‘every word of it. Or, when I say that my story is “true”, I mean at least that I am telling it in a new way. It is always the same story, but sometimes I vary the climax or recast the characters. Variation keeps it fresh and therefore true. If I were always to use the same formula, it would soon drag and become false. I am interested in keeping it alive, and it is a true story, every word of it.’
Robert Graves, The Shout

Perhaps there can be too much making of cups of tea, I thought as I watched Miss Statham filling the heavy tea-pot. We had all had our supper, or were supposed to have had it, and were met together to discuss the arrangements for the Christmas bazaar. Did we really need a cup of tea? I even said as much to Miss Statham and she looked at me with a hurt, almost angry look. “Do we need tea?” she echoed. “But Miss Lathbury…” She sounded puzzled and distressed, and I began to realise that my question had struck at something deep and fundamental. It was the kind of question that starts a landslide in the mind.

I mumbled something about making a joke and that of course one needed tea always, at every hour of the day and night.

Barbara Pym, Excellent Women (1952)