Wish all my corpses would do that.
She did not suddenly start being disagreeable this afternoon, she was so good at it, she had evidently practised whatever are the scales and arpeggios of rudeness every day of her life.
Just how difficult it is to write biography can be reckoned by anybody who sits down and considers just how many people know the real truth about his or her love affairs.
There is in every one of us an unending see-saw between the will to live and the will to die.
In England and America a beard usually means that its owner would rather be considered venerable than virile; on the continent of Europe it often means that its owner makes a special claim to virility.
It isn't only living people who die, it is great stretches of living, which can die even when the people who lived there still exist.
Yes,” said Mamma, “this is the worst of life, that love does not give us common sense but is a sure way of losing it. We love people, and we say that we are going to do more for them than friendship, but it makes such fools of us that we do far less, indeed sometimes what we do could be mistaken for the work of hatred.
. . . for a moment people set down their glasses in county clubs and speak-easies and thought of their old best dreams.
I find old copies of National Gallery catalogues, which are written in the dryest possible prose, infinitely soothing.
I think people underestimate the importance of lighting - layers of lighting, not just one light. I do a lighting seminar where I take a $300-a-yard fabric and a $3-a-yard fabric. I show what lighting can do to either one.
There is a certain moment in the film when the son is in the nursing home and he goes to the television and turns it off because he sees himself in the image.