If you look at life one way, there is always cause for alarm. Elizabeth Bowen More Quotes by Elizabeth Bowen More Quotes From Elizabeth Bowen The wish to lead out one's lover must be a tribal feeling; the wish to be seen as loved is part of one's self-respect. Elizabeth Bowen respect self feelings There is no end to the violations committed by children on children, quietly talking alone. Elizabeth Bowen literature talking children Reason can never reconcile one to life: nothing allays the wants one cannot explain. Elizabeth Bowen reconcile reason want ...there must be something she wanted; and that therefore she was no lady. Elizabeth Bowen wanted What must novel dialogue . . . really be and do? It must be pointed, intentional, relevant. It must crystallize situation. It must express character. It must advance plot. During dialogue, the characters confront one another. The confrontation is in itself an occasion. Each one of these occasions, throughout the novel, is unique. Elizabeth Bowen unique writing character Solitary and farouche people don't have relationships; they are quite unrelatable. Elizabeth Bowen solitary people children like change - for one thing, they never anticipate regret. Elizabeth Bowen anticipate regret children To the sun Rome owes its underlying glow, and its air called golden - to me, more the yellow of white wine; like wine it raises agreeability to poetry. Elizabeth Bowen rome wine air Knowledge of Rome must be physical, sweated into the system, worked up into the brain through the thinning shoe-leather. ... When it comes to knowing, the senses are more honest than the intelligence. Nothing is more real than the first wall you lean up against sobbing with exhaustion. Rome no more than beheld (that is, taken in through the eyes only) could still be a masterpiece in cardboard - the eye I suppose being of all the organs the most easily infatuated and then jaded and so tricked. Seeing is pleasure, but not knowledge. Elizabeth Bowen wall real travel I do like Italian graves; they look so much more lived in. Elizabeth Bowen graves italian looks Don't you understand that all language is dead currency? How they keep on playing shop with it all the same. Elizabeth Bowen currency shops language rudeness to Mrs. Dosely was like dropping a pat of butter on to a hot plate - it slid and melted away. Elizabeth Bowen rudeness hot manners Meetings that do not come off keep a character of their own. They stay as they were projected. Elizabeth Bowen meetings character Memory must be patchy; what is more alarming is its face-savingness. Something in one shrinks from catching it out - unique to oneself, one's own, one's claim to identity, it implicates one's identity in its fibbing. Elizabeth Bowen unique identity memories I know that I have in my make-up layers of synthetic experiences, and that the most powerful of my memories are only half true. Elizabeth Bowen powerful half memories memory is to love what the saucer is to the cup. Elizabeth Bowen cups memories Silence sat in the taxi, as though a stranger had got in. Elizabeth Bowen taxi silence stranger Yes, writing a novel, my boy, is like driving pigs to market - you have one of them making a bolt down the wrong lane; another won't get over the right stile. Elizabeth Bowen writing pigs boys The novel does not simply recount experience, it adds to experience. Elizabeth Bowen novel doe add People in love, in whom every sense is open, cannot beat off the influence of a place. Elizabeth Bowen beats influence people
