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Book: Clea
Quotes of Book: Clea
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  1. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    Ancient lands, in all their prehistoric intactness: lake-solitudes hardly brushed by the hurrying feet of the centuries where the uninterrupted pedigrees of pelican and ibis and heron evolve their slow destinies in complete seclusion.
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  2. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    The real teacher is endurance.
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  3. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    {'Life is more complicated than we think, yet far simpler than anyone dares to imagine'.}
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  4. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    But then is not life itself a fairy-tale which we lose the power of apprehending as we grow? No matter.
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  5. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    He always puzzled me -except when I had him in my arms.
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  6. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    Let us go to bed together and ignore the loutish reality of the world.
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  7. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    The most tender, the most tragic of illusions is perhaps to believe that our actions can add or subtract from the total quantity of good and evil in the world.
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  8. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    Perhaps our only sickness is to desire a truth which we cannot bear rather than to rest content with the fictions we manufacture out of each other.
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  9. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    One learns nothing from those who return our love.
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  10. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    This world represents the promise of a unique happiness which we are not well-enough equipped to grasp.
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  11. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    We were like mourners at an invisible cenotaph during the two minutes' silence which commemorates an irremediable failure of the human will.
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  12. Lawrence Durrell _ Clea

    The oranges were more plentiful than usual that year. They glowed in their arbours of burnished green leaf like lanterns, flickering up there among the sunny woods. It was as if they were eager to celebrate our departure from the little island -- for at last the long-awaited message from Nessim had come, like a summons back to the Underworld. A message which was to draw me back inexorably to the one city which for me always hovered between illusion and reality, between the substance and the poetic images which its very name aroused in me.... Alexandria, the capital of memory!
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