Pity the selfishness of lovers: it is brief, a forlorn hope it is impossible. – Elizabeth Bowen
Intimacies between women often go backwards, beginning in revelations and ending in small talk. – Elizabeth Bowen
Pity the selfishness of lovers: it is brief, a forlorn hope it is impossible. – Elizabeth Bowen
Intimacies between women often go backwards, beginning in revelations and ending in small talk. – Elizabeth Bowen
Nobody can be kinder than the narcissist while you react to life in his own terms. – Elizabeth Bowen
The charm, one might say the genius of memory, is that it is choosy, chancy, and temperamental: it rejects the edifying cathedral and indelibly photographs the small boy outside, chewing a hunk of melon in the dust. – Elizabeth Bowen