You have to work more than your adversary.
But what was the desire of the flesh beside the desire of the mind?
. . . was there no one over thirty-five who had not some secret agony, some white-faced fear? Half one's life one walked carelessly, certain that some day one would have one's heart's desire: and for the rest of it, one either goes empty, or walks carrying a full cup, afraid of every step.
It is only the happy who are hard, Gilles. I think perhaps it is better for the world if - if one has a broken heart. One is quick to recognise it, elsewhere. And one has time to think about other people, if there is nothing left to hope for any more.
for. . . austere and gracious allegory, as for so much of its mysticism and its chivalry, its ardours and its endurances, the world is in debt to Spain.
Being a sick man is like being a log caught in a stream, Gilles. All the straws gather around it.
Shipwreck in youth is sorrowful enough, but one looks for storms at the spring equinox. Yet it is the September equinox that drowns.
To her British lover about to climb in bed with 80-something Mae: She said that she hoped soon to be able to say what Paul Revere said - 'The British are coming'. This was the last one-liner Mae ever uttered on film.
My room is so small, the mice are hunchbacked.
The prima ballerinas who taught me were far more scary than Gordon Ramsay. They'd scream at me and pull my legs and arms, so after them Gordon was a piece of cake.
We are now living in an age which doubts both fact and value. It is the life of this age that we wish to see and judge.