Kindle Notes & Highlights
She so loved this carpet and its wooden banisters, its opulence.
The beam that came from there on ordinary nights was luminous with cigarette smoke. The images it carried to the screen could be seen writhing within its corridor of light.
The right-wing press pandering to the worst in us.
And he knew he would make light of the whole thing to his daughter, tell her it was as if he’d been searching throughout the world, the deserts and the oceans and the waterways, the jungles and mountains, high up and low down, for something he’d already held in the palm of his hand.
The dog followed him along inside the garden hedge, still barking. It was the same kind of feeling he got when there were wasps about.
‘If you get the reputation of rising early, you can lie in your bed till lunchtime.’
How much better to draw women than fight wars.
She climbed into the bath and lowered herself into the water. Everything rose up the sides, including the foam. Archimedes. And Hitchcock. That bloody Hitchcock was responsible for a lot. In the bathroom, women’s vulnerability was complete. Without clothes, without hearing when the shower was on or the taps running, without sight when water got into your eyes.
Then her illness had slowed her down and she’d ceased to care. She left things behind her – like her clothes. And the cat. And silence.
He heard this strange noise – rasp, rasp, rasp. And he looked and there was the cat licking the inside of the bun paper.
