Clare

“For man is essentially alone, and one should pity him and love him and grieve with him.”
― Halldór Laxness

“I was worrying about the milk, about my children falling in love, about the creatures who crawled through the dark towards us, their ancestors, their loving assassins, breathing 'Why?' like a cold wind.”
― Penelope Mortimer, The Pumpkin Eater

“The silence was terrible then, as tense as a bridge about to break, a tower to fall; unedurable in its emotion, its truth bursting to be spoken.”
― John Fowles, The French Lieutenant’s Woman

“He thought other resourceful people would have come, over the years, to look at it, and that the house would wear its own mild frown of self-regard, a certain half-friendly awareness of being admired. It would live up to its fame. But really there was nothing to see. The upstairs windows seemed to ponder blankly on the reflections of clouds.”
― Alan Hollinghurst, The Stranger's Child