He turns his back to the far shore and rows toward it. He can in this way travel away from, yet still see, his house....he feels he is riding a floating skeleton...Some birds in the almost-dark are flying as close… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
Her life with others no longer interests him. He wants only her stalking beauty, her theatre of expressions. He wants the minute secret reflection between them, the depth of field minimal, their foreignness intimate like two pages of a closed… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
“In spite of this, our table's status on the Oronsay continued to be minimal, while those at the Captain's Table were constantly toasting to… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
He will hear the rain before he feels it, a clicking on the dry grass, on the olive leaves. — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
“Whenever her father was alone with a dog in a house he would lean over and smell the skin at the base of its… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
“...those who had risked everything at a riverbend on a left turn and so discovered a fortune.” — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
“All over the world there must be people like us, Anna had said then, wounded in some way by falling in love - seemingly… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
Her father had taught her about hands. About a dog's paws. Whenever her father was alone with a dog in a house he would… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
What is interesting and important happens mostly in secret, in places where there is no power. Nothing much of lasting value ever happens at… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
From this point on, she whispered, we will either find or lose our souls. — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
“You know it is the most relaxed thing when you when you sit with a best friend and you know there is nothing you… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
“There was no control except the " mood of his power... and it is for this reason it is good you never heard him… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
You're getting everyone's point of view at the same time, which for me, is the perfect state for a novel: a cubist state, the… — Michael Ondaatje Copy Share Image
