Then about 1951 I began writing again, painfully, a novel I called in the beginning A Life Sentence on Earth, but which… — Patrick White Copy Share Image
I think it is impossible to explain faith. It is like trying to explain air, which one cannot do by dividing it… — Patrick White Copy Share Image
I continued writing the bad plays which fortunately nobody would produce, just as no one did me the unkindness of publishing my… — Patrick White Copy Share Image
“At times his arrogance did resolve itself into simplicity, though it was difficult, especially for strangers, to distinguish these occasions.” — Patrick White Copy Share Image
I developed the habit of writing novels behind a closed door, or at my uncle's, on the dining table. — Patrick White Copy Share Image
“There are moments when the eyes flow into each other. Then the souls are wrapped around each other across a distance” — Patrick White Copy Share Image
“The worst thing about love between human beings is that when you are prepared to love them they don't want it; when they do… — Patrick White Copy Share Image
In fact I enjoyed every minute of my life at King's, especially the discovery of French and German literature. — Patrick White Copy Share Image
Because he had nothing to hide, he did perhaps appear to have forfeited a little of his strength. But that is the irony of… — Patrick White Copy Share Image
She would have liked to sit upon a rock and listen to words, not of any man, but detached, mysterious, poetic words that she… — Patrick White Copy Share Image
“Superficially my war was a comfortable exercise in futility carried out in a grand Scottish hotel amongst the bridge players and swillers of easy-come-by… — Patrick White Copy Share Image
My father and mother were second cousins, though they did not meet till shortly before their marriage. — Patrick White Copy Share Image
Then about 1951 I began writing again, painfully, a novel I called in the beginning A Life Sentence on Earth, but which developed into… — Patrick White Copy Share Image
“Where have you been, Theodora?," Mrs Goodman asked. "Walking, Mother." "And whom did you see?" Mrs Goodman flung her grammar like a stone. "I… — Patrick White Copy Share Image
