... was there no one over thirty-five who had not some secret agony, some white-faced fear? Half one's life one walked carelessly, certain that some day one would have one's heart's desire: and for the rest of it, one either… — Helen Waddell Copy Share Image
Being a sick man is like being a log caught in a stream, Gilles. All the straws gather around it. — Helen Waddell Copy Share Image
Truth has as many coats as an onion ... and each one of them hollow when you peel it off. — Helen Waddell Copy Share Image
... was there no one over thirty-five who had not some secret agony, some white-faced fear? Half one's life one walked carelessly, certain that… — Helen Waddell Copy Share Image
Shipwreck in youth is sorrowful enough, but one looks for storms at the spring equinox. Yet it is the September equinox that drowns. — Helen Waddell Copy Share Image
for ... austere and gracious allegory, as for so much of its mysticism and its chivalry, its ardours and its endurances, the world is… — Helen Waddell Copy Share Image
It is only the happy who are hard, Gilles. I think perhaps it is better for the world if - if one has a… — Helen Waddell Copy Share Image
“The truth is that solitude is the creative condition of genius, religious or secular, and the ultimate sterilising of it. No human soul can… — Helen Waddell Copy Share Image
