Christopher Isherwood
Christopher Isherwood
Christopher William Bradshaw Isherwoodwas an English novelist...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth26 August 1904
CountryUnited States of America
delight hooked addict
She is sighing deeply now with sympathy and delight - the delight of an addict when someone else admits he's hooked, too.
hate causes
No one ever hates without a cause....
morning differences giving
What’s so phony nowadays is all this familiarity. Pretending there isn’t any difference between people —well, like you were saying about minorities, this morning. If you and I are no different, what do we have to give each other? How can we ever be friends?
roulette telephones
The Quito telephone service is about as reliable as roulette.
fighting honor trying
I must honor those who fight of their own free will, he said to himself. And I must try to imitate their courage by following my path as a pacifist, wherever it takes me.
sea lovers
The sea only drowns its lovers.
doubt needs belief
I doubt if one ever accepts a belief until one urgently needs it.
years ideas people
I'm horrified to find, as I look at these diaries of twenty-five years ago or more, that I don't remember who the people were. "Bill and Tony were constantly in and out. We went to La Jolla" - or something. I haven't the bluest idea who they were!
morning lying sunshine
In the eternal lazy morning of the Pacific, days slip away into months, months into years; the seasons are reduced to the faintest nuance by the great central fact of the sunshine; one might pass a lifetime, it seems, between two yawns, lying bronzed and naked in the sand.
gay taste kind
At one campus where I was lecturing, I asked a friend, "How many of my colleagues know I'm gay?" He answered, "All of them." I wasn't surprised. But, just the same, it was kind of spooky, because not one of them had ever given me the faintest sign that he or she knew. If I had spoken about it myself, most of them would have felt it was in bad taste.
imagination towns visitors
The town is an advertisement for itself; none of its charms are left to the visitor's imagination.
expression faces single-man
What it sees there isn't so much a face as the expression of a predicament.
epic play forever
His life has been lived, so far, within narrow limits and he is quite naïve about most kinds of experience; he fears it and yet is wildly eager for it. To reassure himself, he converts it into epic myth as fast as it happens. He is forever play-acting.
bridges iron skeletons
Berlin is a skeleton which aches in the cold: it is my own skeleton aching. I feel in my bones the sharp ache of the frost in the girders of the overhead railway, in the iron-work of balconies, in bridges, tramlines, lamp-standards, latrines. The iron throbs and shrinks, the stone and the bricks ache dully, the plaster is numb.