D. James
D. James
creativity atmosphere coercion
Creativity doesn't flourish in an atmosphere of despotism, coercion and fear.
prejudice letters may
A letter is paradoxically the most revealing and the most deceptive of confessional revelations. We all have our inconsistencies, prejudices, irrationalities which, although strongly felt at the time, may be transitory. A letter captures the mood of the moment. The transitory becomes immutably fixed, part of the evidence for the prosecution or the defence.
country two decision
There are two options for any society: total prohibition as in a totalitarian state, or total license. Both avoid the ardours of decision. Both have the attraction of certainty. The difficult option is to decide where the line should be drawn and this, surely, is the responsiblity of any civilized and democratic country.
loss grieving tragedy
The tragedy of loss is not that we grieve, but that we cease to grieve, and then perhaps the dead are dead at last.
government people moral
No government can act in advance of the moral will of the people.
youth immortality
Youth goes caparisoned in immortality.
rejection infanticide
Authors always take rejection badly. They equate it with infanticide.
war men may
Wars may be fought by decent men, but they're not won by them.
nothing-but-the-truth oath swear
you'd like the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. That must be the most futile oath anyone ever swears.
suicide actors mysterious
Suicide is the most private and mysterious of acts, inexplicable because the chief actor is never there to explain it.
spring long enough
however long we have to live, there are never enough springs.
morning believe political
I believe that political correctness can be a form of linguistic fascism . . . The only way to react is to get up in the morning and start the day by saying four or five vastly politically incorrect things before breakfast!
letters spontaneous individual
No literary form is more revealing, more spontaneous or more individual than a letter.
love-you tragedy half
He didn't want her; he wanted me. Well, you know how it is." Dalgliesh did know. This, after all, was the commonest, the most banal of personal tragedies. You loved someone. They didn't love you. Worse still, in defiance of their own best interests and to the destruction of your peace, they loved another. What would half the world's poets and novelists do without this universal tragicomedy?