The Real Index Of Civilization Is When

The Human Heart Likes A Little Disorder In Its Geometry.

Your Lips Are Like Sugar And Your Cheeks An Apple Your Breasts Are Paradise And Your Body A Lily. O, To Kiss The Sugar To Bite The Apple To Reveal Paradise And Open The Lily.

The Trouble With Fulfilling Your Ambitions Is You Think You Will Be Transformed Into Some Sort Of Archangel And You're Not. You Still Have To Wash Your Socks.

The De Bernières Were Very Military. I Broke The Military Tradition But I Was Terribly Proud Of My Father Being A Soldier.

Love Itself Is What Is Left Over When Being "in Love" Has Burned Away, And This Is Both An Art And A Fortunate Accident.