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Boys do not grow up gradually. They move forward in spurts like the hands of clocks in railway stations.
Cyril Connolly
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Cyril Connolly
Age: 71 †
Born: 1903
Born: September 10
Died: 1974
Died: November 26
Critic
Literary Critic
Novelist
Writer
Coventry
England
UK
Cyril Vernon Connolly
Move
Spurts
Grow
Clocks
Boys
Railway
Grows
Gradually
Moving
Stations
Hands
Clock
Like
Son
Forward
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There are many who dare not kill themselves for fear of what the neighbours will say.
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When even despair ceases to serve any creative purpose, then surely we are justified in suicide.
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Vulgarity is the garlic in the salad of charm.
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When I write after dark the shades of evening scatter their purple through my prose.
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No-one was ever made wretched in a brothel.
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Life is a maze in which we take the wrong turning before we have learned to walk.
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Sheep with a nasty side.
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We may assume that we keep people waiting symbolically because we do not wish to see them and that our anxiety is due not to being late, but to having to see them at all.
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The friendships which last are those wherein each friend respects the other's dignity to the point of not really wanting anything from him.
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Believing in Hell must distort every judgement on this life.
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The artist one day falls through a hole in the brambles, and from that moment he is following the dark rapids of an underground river which may sometimes flow so near to the surface that the laughing picnic parties are heard above.
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There is immunity in reading, immunity in formal society, in office routine, in the company of old friends and in the giving of officious help to strangers, but there is no sanctuary in one bed from the memory of another. The past with its anguish will break through every defense-line of custom and habit we must sleep and therefore we must dream.
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In youth the life of reason is not in itself sufficient afterwards the life of emotion, except for short periods, becomes unbearable.
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The American language is in a state of flux based upon survival of the unfittest.
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The only way for writers to meet is to share a quick peek over a common lamp-post.
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Slums may well be breeding grounds of crime, but middle class suburbs are incubators of apathy and delirium.
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