Happiness was different in childhood. It was so much then a matter simply of accumulation, of taking things – new experiences, new emotions – and applying them like so many polished tiles to what would someday be the marvellously finished pavilion of the self.
Random Passages is a random collection of memorable writing.
- Were you in love with her?
- During the first part of your life, you only become of happiness once you have lost it
- Your only chance of survival, if you are sincerely smitten, lies in hiding this fact from the woman you love
- They look so fine, and young, and wrapped up in each other.
- Christ, he thinks, by my age I ought to know
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