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There is always one moment in childhood when the door opens and lets the future in.
He held a small spot of brandy in his glass warily – as if it was an animal to which he gave shelter, but not trust.
Heat stood in the room like an enemy.
He lifted little pink eyes like those of a pig conscious of the slaughter-room.
a wide shallow kinship with all the world moved with the blood-stream through the veins: he was at home anywhere.
Terror was always just behind her shoulder: she was wasted by the effort of not turning round.
She was very young – about thirteen – and at that age you are not afraid of many things, age and death, all the things which may turn up, snake-bite and fever and rats and a bad smell. Life hadn’t got at her yet;
Captain Fellows was touched with fear; he was aware of an inordinate love which robbed him of authority. You cannot control what you love –
happiness drained out of him more quickly and completely than out of an unhappy man: an unhappy man is always prepared.
‘A little drink,’ he said, ‘will work wonders in a cowardly man.
he was in the grip of the unforgivable sin, despair.
