Every love has a poetic relevance of its own; each love brings to light only what to it is relevant. Outside lies… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
One's sentiments -- call them that -- one's fidelities are so instinctive that one hardly knows they exist: only when they are… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
Only in a house where one has learnt to be lonely does one have this solicitude for things. One's relation to them,… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
The silence of a shut park does not sound like the country silence; it is tense and confined. — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
When one is a child, the disposition of objects, tables and chairs and doors, seems part of the natural order: a house-move… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
The novelist's--any writer's--object is to whittle down his meaning to the exactest and finest possible point. What, of course, isfatal is when… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
The writer, unlike his non-writing adult friend, has no predisposed outlook; he seldom observes deliberately. He sees what he didnot intend to… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
A novel which survives, which withstands and outlives time, does do something more than merely survive. It does not stand still. It… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
somehow at parties at which one stays standing up one seems to require to be more concentratedly intelligent than one does at… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
The Irish landowner, partly from laziness but also from an indifferent delicacy, does not interfere in the lives of the people round.… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
Mr. [Aldous] Huxley has been the alarming young man for a long time, a sort of perpetual clever nephew who can be… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
The novel does not simply recount experience, it adds to experience. — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
Temperamentally, the writer exists on happenings, on contacts, conflicts, action and reaction, speed, pressure, tension. Were he acontemplative purely, he would not write. — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
“Are you really an orphan? Yes, I am, said Portia a shade shortly. Are you? No, not at present, but I suppose it's a… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
It is not our exalted feelings, it is our sentiments that build the necessary home. — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
Every love has a poetic relevance of its own; each love brings to light only what to it is relevant. Outside lies the junk-yard… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
without fiction, either life would be insufficient or the winds from the north would blow too cold. — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
One's sentiments -- call them that -- one's fidelities are so instinctive that one hardly knows they exist: only when they are betrayed or,… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
Only in a house where one has learnt to be lonely does one have this solicitude for things. One's relation to them, the daily… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
To walk into history is to be free at once, to be at large among people. — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
The wish to lead out one's lover must be a tribal feeling; the wish to be seen as loved is part of one's self-respect. — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
“First love, with its frantic haughty imagination, swings its object clear of the everyday, over the rut of living, making him all looks, silences,… — Elizabeth Bowen Copy Share Image
![“Mr. [Aldous] Huxley has been the alarming young man for…” quote by Elizabeth Bowen](https://sms4smile.com/quotes/img-quotes/203/elizabeth-bowen-1197_clever_mr-aldous-huxley-has-been-the-alarming-y_2740970.jpg)
