A Book Shelf.

16/12/12 | 07:11

There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.

Oscar Wilde — The Picture of Dorian Gray

25/11/12 | 08:54

No one could agree on anything. We lived in a mist of half-shared, unreliable perception, and our sense data came warped by a prism of desire and belief, which tilted our memories too. We saw and remembered in our own favour and we persuaded ourselves along the way. Pitiless objectivity, especially about ourselves, was always a doomed social strategy. We’re descended from the indignant, passionate tellers of half truths who in order to convince others, simultaneously convinced themselves.

Ian McEwan — Enduring Love

21/11/12 | 06:34

Show me your fury or bitterness. I won’t mind. I’ll never desert you. But never, never try to pretend to yourself that I do not exist.

Ian McEwan — Enduring Love

15/11/12 | 10:08

There are times when fatigue is the great aphrodisiac, annihilating all other thoughts, granting sensuous slow motion to heavy limbs, urging generosity, acceptance, infinite abandonment. We tumbled out of our respective days, like creatures shaken from a net.

Ian McEwan — Enduring Love

13/11/12 | 09:20

There was no one there. The quietness was that of the inanimate, and I understood again, because I had seen dead bodies before, why a pre-scientific age would have needed to invent the soul. It was no less clear than the illusion of the evening sun sinking through the sky. The closing down of countless interrelated neural and bio-chemical exchanges combined to suggest to a naked eye the illusion of the extinguished spark, or the simple departure of a single necessary element. However scientifically informed we count ourselves to be, fear and awe still surprise us in the presence of the dead. Perhaps it’s life we’re really wondering at.

Ian McEwan — Enduring Love

10/11/12 | 10:17

This is our mammalian conflict—what to give to the others, and what to keep for yourself. Treading that line, keeping the others in check, and being kept in check by them, is what we call morality. Hanging a few feet above the Chilterns escarpment, our crew enacted morality’s ancient, irresolvable dilemma: us, or me.

Ian McEwan — Enduring Love

03/08/12 | 06:31

It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy; it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.

Jane Austen - Sense and Sensibility

19/07/12 | 07:32

Some strangers become more important to you than family, maybe because you’re not expected to love them. You can leave them whenever you want to. They can, too. Every moment together is a choice.

Walter Kirn — Thumbsucker

14/07/12 | 05:35

Certain people led such charmed lives, apparently, that even their wounds worked out to their advantage.

Walter Kirn — Thumbsucker

09/07/12 | 04:41

Even the worst were trying to do their best today. Tomorrow or the next day they’d probably lapse, but the hope was that they’d recover and try a new thing. Nothing solved everything. Some things didn’t solve anything. You just had to treat every practice as the game.

Walter Kirn — Thumbsucker