Kalie

“..faced with one of those dark spouting mornings which burst over unhappy London like gigantic bombs filled with dirty water. At the first sign of the approach of one of these outrages, all clocks ought to be put back three hours, so that everybody might stay in bed until their fury is spent.”
― J.B. Priestley, Angel Pavement

“He felt like a satrap amid all those acres of sheets. But this morning it was different. He was simply lying there and adding up the future like a sum; and whichever way he added it, it came out wrong.”
― Norman Collins, Love in our Time

“The room was perfectly quiet, with that padded, luxurious quietness that only money can buy in a modern city. However noisy the streets below may be, noises falter, discouraged, before they can climb to the top flats in such buildings as Hyde House; like those bees which never discover the luckless virgin flowers in the penthouse gardens of New York. It is not a peaceful silence. There is something drugged and enchanted about it. Conditioned air, central heating, and sound-proof walls are the only magicians employed to produce this hush, yet it gives a strange feeling to a visitor of being cut off from the living world.”
― Stella Gibbons, My American

“It didn’t matter if you made a fool of yourself in front of strangers – he saw that now. It probably didn’t matter much if you did it in front of your friends. The shameful thing was doing it in front of strangers, and being seen by your friends in the process.”
― Michael Frayn, Towards the End of the Morning