“She changed her position, contemplated a row od apple shrubs that she had put in last autumn at the bottom of the… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
“Suddenly, as they walked with their buckets, it was not the child in each face that she sought, but the Wonder that… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
Who wants to become a writer? And why? Because it's the answer to everything. ... It's the streaming reason for living. To… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
“Who wants to become a writer? And why? ... It's the streaming reason for living. To note, to pin down, to build… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
“She watched him, thinking and dreaming, feeling life short, shiveringly short. And the bubble of wind within him forcing its way upwards… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
“If I had my life over again[, ] I'd have thought more about words. And thought about them earlier.” — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
As for death one gets used to it, even if it's only other people's death you get used to. — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
It's not till sex has died out between a man and a woman that they can really love. And now I mean affection. Now… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
Let this serve as an axiom to every lover: A woman who refuses lunch refuses everything. — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
“She changed her position, contemplated a row od apple shrubs that she had put in last autumn at the bottom of the terrace, and… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
Why do birds sing in the morning? It's the triumphant shout: 'We got through another night!' — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
In marriage there are no manners to keep up, and beneath the wildest accusations no real criticism. Each is familiar with that ancient child… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
“He's old now. He goes about gathering up the women who loved him and getting a kick out of their consternation and vague distress.… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
“They went together to the pond. The frogs, frozen by the movement, sat still. Fourteen golden eyes like nuggets gleamed unwinking from the margin.… — Enid Bagnold Copy Share Image
