Fear has always seemed to me to run a course, and at its climax the body and perhaps the spirit defend themselves by drawing on some new and fresh source of strength.
Their hearts were on the shipping lanes, running away from home.
Imagine spending thousands of dollars to make a sound house look like a wreck. Imagine the frame of mind this implies. Imagine wanting to live so much in the past that you'll pay men carpenters' wages to disfigure your front door.
His observations were bound to include the facts that backgammon is an idle game and a game of chance, and that the board, marked with points, was a symbol of our worthlessness.
Love—sexual roughhouse in fact—was the supreme elixir, the pain killer, the brightly colored pill that would put the spring back into his step, the joy of life in his heart.
The company of a lie is unbearable, and he seemed like the embodiment of a lie.
She paid for her mobility with some loneliness.
Christmas is a sad season for the poor.
You think that your pessimism is an advantage, but it's nothing but an unwillingness to grasp realities.
I don't mind _him_. It doesn't matter to me how _rude_ and _horrid_ and _gloomy_ he is, but what I can't bear are the faces of his wretched little children, those fabulously unhappy little children.
If people married for love, the world would not be a place in which to live, it would be a hospital for the mad.
I had heard him say, years ago, that we and our friends and our part of the nation, finding ourselves unable to cope with the problems of the present, had, like a wretched adult, turned back to what we supposed was a happier and a simpler time, and that our taste for reconstruction and candlelight was a measure of this irremediable failure.
And when it came Christmas morning, how could you explain it, how could you tell them that Santa Claus only visited the rich, that he didn't know about the good? How could you face them when all you had to give them was a balloon or a lollipop?
I think people ought to be able to dream big dreams about the future. I think people ought to be able to dream great dreams.
Making his way home by an uncommon route gave him the feeling that he was a pilgrim, an explorer, a man with a destiny, and he knew that he would find friends all along the way.
In the early heat, the roses in the garden smelled like strawberry jam.