The bowed head, the buried face. She is silent, she will never speak, never forgive, never reach a hand, never leave this frozen present tense. All waits, suspended. Suspended the autumn trees, the autumn sky, anonymous people. A blackbird, poor… — John Fowles Copy Share Image
“She smiled at him as they waited for their dessert, her chin poised on her clasped hands. 'You're being very silent.' 'That's how men cry.” — John Fowles Copy Share Image
I do not plan my fiction any more than I normally plan woodland walks; I follow the path that seems most promising at any… — John Fowles Copy Share Image
“The sky is absolutely empty. Beautifully pure and empty. As if the architects and builders would live in all the houses they built! Or… — John Fowles Copy Share Image
“The evolution of human mentality has put us all in vitro now, behind the glass wall of our own ingenuity.” — John Fowles Copy Share Image
Most marriages recognize this paradox: Passion destroys passion; we want what puts an end to wanting what we want. — John Fowles Copy Share Image
That is the great distinction between the sexes. Men see objects, women see the relationships between objects. — John Fowles Copy Share Image
The craving to risk death is our last great perversion. We come from night, we go into night. Why live in night? — John Fowles Copy Share Image
There is only one good definition of God: the freedom that allows other freedoms to exist. — John Fowles Copy Share Image
“Long afterwards I realized why some men, racing drivers and their like, become addicted to speed. There are those of us who never see… — John Fowles Copy Share Image
But however good you get at translating personality into line or paint it's no go if your personality isn't worth translating. — John Fowles Copy Share Image
