“Mori smiled properly. The lines around his eyes were deeper than usual now. They made him look like an old photograph of a young man, often crushed, but ironed carefully so that only the ghosts of the marks remained.” — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“I'd always thought it was gaudy, but standing there watching him beside the gold and glass shrine, I realised that his was a candlelight faith. It didn't work in the clear unforgiving light in London or Scandinavia, where even the dust in the cathedrals showed. But in the warm dimness and the shadows, what would have been tasteless at home… — Natasha Pulley Copy Share
“Being mad isn't an excuse for being vague. Can we at least have specific madness?” — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“Nobody wants a house in Osaka,' he said, and it was strange to hear him switch suddenly to foreign pronunciation in the middle of… — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“Tallis with no pedal, Handel with, even the horrible organ piece that had been written for someone with three hands. He had thought it… — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“Mori made an unwilling sound. 'I don't like Western art.' 'No look at this.' He lifted it from its package. It wasn't heavy. 'It's… — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“I'm a Buddhist. You might have a Christian obligation to catch pneumonia while you sit for two and a half hours listening to some… — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“It is not summer, England doesn't have summer, it has continuous autumn with a fortnight's variation here and there.” — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“People are like bees. They’re all workers who could be queens, with the right stuff, but once a queen-making has begun, it can’t be… — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“My uncle is a phrenologist and says that the shape of his skull is typical of a liar.” — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“Stop looking at it as an impossible thing and start looking at it as a thing that must be done.” — Natasha Pulley Copy Share Image
“Why do you hate Indians? You know white people are are much worse, don't you? It isn't as though there's some kind of international bar you're not reaching out here. We're terrible at everything. Lasting much past forty-five. Learning more than one language. It's a miracle, actually; sickly prematurely aging worryingly inbred horsey idiots have managed to convince everyone else… — Natasha Pulley Copy Share
