Monday, 18 August 2014

The silver fox hides a heavy heart

Harold sat in silence. The silver-haired gentleman was in truth nothing like the man Harold had first imagined him to be. He was a chap like himself with a unique pain; and yet there would be no knowing that if you passed him in the street, or sat opposite him in a cafe and did not share his teacake. Harold pictured the gentleman on a station platform, smart in his suit, looking no different from anyone else. It must be the same all over England. People were buying milk, or filling their cars with petrol, or even posting letters. And what no one else knew was the appalling weight of the thing they were carrying inside.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry, Rachel Joyce

Monday, 23 June 2014

I know this well

Their conversation was an odd, semi-surreal mixture of deliberate banalities, light ironies and playful banter. Jonathan felt at home with this. In a world that obstinately refused to make any sense at all, Jonathon had always felt it was presumptuous to talk as though it did.

The Perpetual Astonishment of Jonathon Fairfax, Christopher Shevlin

Wednesday, 11 June 2014

Not a sports fan, then

She had long since moved into the Cricketer's flat in st John's wood, next to Lords where he did a lot of his important business of propelling a little ball around a field.

Knot, Mark Watson

Monday, 19 May 2014

I believe

Miss Tick sniffed. 'You could say this advice is priceless,' she said, 'are you listening?'

'Yes,' said Tiffany.

'Good. Now... if you trust in yourself...'

'Yes?'

'...and believe in your dreams...'

'Yes?'

'...and follow your star...' Miss Tick went on.

'Yes?'

'...you'll still get beaten by people who spent their time working hard and learning things and weren't so lazy. Goodbye.'

The Wee Free Men, Terry Pratchett

I admire their passion

As far as she was concerned, conviviality was always a lie. You could fake being nice, she would say, but being a cunt came from the heart.

Idiopathy, Sam Byers

Tuesday, 6 May 2014

Also slippers

There is something awful about mixing violence with cardigans.

The Humorist, Russell Kane

Monday, 10 February 2014

It's the sniff

"Gretta sniffs as she dips her knife into the red mouth of the jam pot."

Instructions for a Heatwave. Maggie O'Farrell