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Fiction is the great repository of the moral sense. The wicked get punished.

Anita Brookner

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Anita Brookner
Age: 87 †
Born: 1928
Born: July 16
Died: 2016
Died: March 10
Art Historian
Novelist
University Teacher
Writer
London
England
Punished
Wicked
Fiction
Moral
Sense
Great
Repository

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Problems of human behavior still continue to baffle us, but at least in the Library we have them properly filed.
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There are moments when you feel free, moments when you have energy, moments when you have hope, but you can't rely on any of these things to see you through. Circumstances do that.
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Life is a pilgrimage and if you don't play by the rules you don't find the Road to Damascus, you find the Crown of Thorns.
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No blame should attach to telling the truth. But it does, it does.
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I am 46, and have been for some time past.
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I suppose what one wants really is ideal company and books are ideal company.
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Always let them think of you as singing and dancing.
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The lessons taught in great books are misleading. The commerce in life is rarely so simple and never so just.
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I think you always feel braver in another language.
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A man of such obvious and exemplary charm must be a liar.
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You never know what you will learn till you start writing. Then you discover truths you never knew existed.
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You have no idea how promising the world begins to look once you have decided to have it all for yourself. And how much healthier your decisions are once they become entirely selfish.
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The self-fulfilled woman is far from reality.
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Satire is dependent on strong beliefs, and on strong beliefs wounded.
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For once a thing is known, it can never be unknown. It can only be forgotten.
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Writing novels preserves you in a state of innocence - a lot passes you by - simply because your attention is otherwise diverted.
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I was brought up among the sort of self-important women who had a husband as one has an alibi.
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And without understanding, could each properly love the other?
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One loses the capacity to grieve as a child grieves, or to rage as a child rages: hotly, despairingly, with tears of passion. One grows up, one becomes civilized, one learns one's manners, and consequently can no longer manage these two functions - sorrow and anger - adequately.
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Death is only a small interruption.
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