These memories, which are my life--for we possess nothing certainly except the past--were always with me. — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
“My theme is memory, that winged host that soared about me one grey morning of war-time. These memories, which are my life--for… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
“My theme is memory, that winged host that soared about me one grey morning of war-time. These memories, which are my life—for… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
If, for instance, they have heard something from the postman, they attribute it to a semi-official statement; if they have fallen into conversation with… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
One can write, think and pray exclusively of others; dreams are all egocentric. — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
“Sometimes," Helena continued, "I have a terrible dream of the future. Not now, but presently, people may forget their loyalty to their kings and… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
“Rex has never been unkind to me intentionally. It's just that he isn't a real person at all; he's just a few faculties of… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
If it could only be like this always – always summer, always alone, the fruit always ripe and Aloysius in a good temper... — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
“My dear, I should like to stick you full of barbed arrows like a p-p-pin cushion...Where do you lurk? I shall come down your… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
There is something incomparably thrilling in first opening a brand new book. — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
“Beware the Anglo-Catholics. They're all sodomites with unpleasant accents." --Cousin Jasper” — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
“The fortnight at Venice passed quickly and sweetly-- perhaps too sweetly; I was drowning in honey, stingless.” — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
“It’s awful to think that I shall probably never, as long as I live, see you dancing like that again all by yourself.” — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
I've always been bad. Probably I shall be bad again, punished again. But the worse I am, the more I need God. I can't… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
His courtesy was somewhat extravagant. He would write and thank people who wrote to thank him for wedding presents and when he encountered anyone… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
Limbo is the place. In Limbo one has natural happiness without the beatific vision; no harps; no communal order; but wine and conversation and… — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
Perhaps host and guest is really the happiest relation for father and son. — Evelyn Waugh Copy Share Image
