The Valley of Unknowing Quotes

“We drank our coffee the Russian way. That is to say we had vodka before it and vodka afterwards.”
― Philip Sington, The Valley of Unknowing

“Desire is an appetite, quickly sated. Longing is a wound, an opening in the heart or the spirit. Whatever the cause, whatever the duration, it almost always leaves a scar.”
― Philip Sington, The Valley of Unknowing

“One thing I knew about the novelist’s task: when in doubt, write; when empty, write; when afraid, write. Nothing is more impenetrable than the blank page. The blank page is the void, the absence of sense and feeling, the white light of literary death.”
― Philip Sington, The Valley of Unknowing

“All writers are insecure, the male ones especially. It's well known. Why else would they spend so much time on make-believe? They're only happy in their imaginary worlds, because that's where they're in charge - where they're God. Did you know that Hemingway's mother dressed him as a girl until he was six years old?"
I was not offended by Claudia's glib psychological theory. Like many glib psychological theories, it struck me as fundamentally correct.”
― Philip Sington, The Valley of Unknowing

“I wanted her body and soul, but body first.”
― Philip Sington, The Valley of Unknowing

“I was already at an age when putting off anything was a bad idea.”
― Philip Sington, The Valley of Unknowing

“For the writer under Actually Existing Socialism describing sex is a simple matter: he simply does not do it (the describing, I mean, not the sex).”
― Philip Sington, The Valley of Unknowing

“Who is the other woman whose photograph I do not have? If my mother was the first in my life, she was the last: my lover and my downfall, my hope and my despair. Her photographs I burned in an ashtray, one at a time - some might say to be rid of the evidence. Her name was Theresa Aden: Theresa like the saint; Aden like Eden, complete with snake.”
― Philip Sington, The Valley of Unknowing

“The wind funnelled down the covered platform, jostling the passengers and tearing at their clothes. A woman's scarf whipped by overhead, somersaulting as if intoxicated by the sudden taste of freedom.”
― Philip Sington, The Valley of Unknowing