“The art of presenting oneself, he had once told Sybil, lies in creating an immediate shock which is countered by a slow retreat into custom. People never quite recover from my cravats, but they will never find the equal of… — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
Literature was intended to be dangerous. Art was meant to be dangerous. Ideas were nothing if they were not dangerous. — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
He said that in a way being loved is like being told you never have to die. — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
There are no beginnings, not even to stories. There are only places where you make an entrance into someone else's life and either stay… — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
“I have dreamt of a life you will never know; the life of a loving and caring companion. I simply thought you should know.… — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
“You will live when you live. No one else can ever live your life and no one else will ever know what you know...” — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
In the dark that followed - Lucy said; "where I was born, the trees were always in the sun. And I left that place… — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
“With Tom, there had never been a door to close, only the grass to lie on, never a bed; no walls, no ceiling to… — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
I still maintain that an ordinary human being has the right to be horrified by a mangled body seen on an afternoon walk. — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
“Rodwell wandered into No Man's Land and put a bullet through his ears. On Sunday, Robert sat on his bed in the old hotel… — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
They waited. The door did not open. The rain did not stop. The darkness made a tent and covered them completely. — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
“When Mrs Ross asked him what he was thinking of, he shrugged. But he was thinking of the time he'd climbed the steeple of… — Timothy Findley Copy Share Image
