P9 ''This morning I was out doing some errands in the town. There was a window open in a house near the cathedral and someone was playing the piano...It was a beautiful thing, though just a few notes. I wanted to stop and knock on the door of the house and ask whoever was playing it what it was called' p11 At the end of each refrain Berard would pause dramatically and Stephen would allow his eyes a quick glance to see if he had finished. For a moment there was utter silence in the hot dining room, but then would come another deep inhalation and a further verse' p37 when at last it became bearable it was still like a wound on which the skin would not thicken, so the least thing could reopen it.....She appeared older than her age, and began to cultivate a style and manner of her own that were not those of her parents or her elder sisters. P52 Miserably, he took a piece of paper from the desk and began, he wanted to find dignified words for the rage of desire and confusion he felt.....By this time he had already gone too far; he could not send this letter. He wrote one more paragraph for his own sake, to see what he had to say....He tore the paper up into small pieces and dropped them in the basket. P58 She wanted him to bring alive what she had buried, and to demean, destroy, her fabricated self. P67 (When Isabelle's lying) Stephen was taken aback by Isabelle's unembarrassed fluency. He watched as she spoke and wondered if he could have told that she was lying. Nothing in her manner was different. One day she might lie to him and he would never know. Perhaps all women had this ability to survive. P68 Paris is just a big fashion house – the people there buy new clothes every week. What a lot of peacocks. P68 Isabelle had grown increasingly quiet. She wished Stephen would catch her eye or give some indication in his manner towards her that everything was all right. Jeanne has once said that men were not like women, that once they possessed a woman it was as though nothing had happened and they just wanted to move on to another. Isabelle could not believe this of Stephen. Yet how was she to know, when he gave her no sign, no smile of warmth? At first his self-control had been reassuring; now it worried her. P73 She began to sigh again and rubbed herself against him. 'Please, please' He did not know if she meant him to stop or to continue. P96 (Affair been found out)''In my house? Where? In your bed?....In which room?''....P99 Azaire went back to the first floor and began to go through each room in turn. He raged with a desire to see the filth and shame of what they had done to him. He wanted to see the marks of his wife's betrayal, the stains of her degradation. p97 This is not a situation anyone can be prepared for. Nothing I have learned in religion, or from my family or my own thoughts is any help to me..... I'm just the same person I ever was, but you never took the trouble to find out what that was. P105 Learnig how to use a knife and fork with finesse. P114 (Isabelle's pregnant) How could he feel attached to something that does not yet exist? P128 Jack was so tired that he had passed the stage when sleep was possible. His body had found some automatic course, powered by what source of wakefulness he couldn't say....He did not know he was asleep until he was awake again. P135 ''The war has provided all of us with daily lessons in anatomy. I could write a paper on the major organs of the British private soldier.' p136 ''Each one of the men we've killed is someone's son. Do you think of that when you see them dead? Do you wonder what their mothers thought when they first held them to their breast – that they would end like this?'' p145 His eyes felt heavy with fatigue. His body was running not on natural energy given by food and sleep but on some nervous chemical supplied by unknown glands. His mouth felt burned and sour all the way down to the guy....He found it difficult to think of words of encouragement or inspiration when he himself did not believe there was a purpose to the war or and end to it in sight. P146 Steve was to be re-presented to them as a different and superior being who had magically acquired the attributes of an officer. P160 He felt sorry for men who were married to creatures who were so obviously inferior; eve the men who were happy and proud of the imagined beauty of their wives had, in his eyes, made a desperate compromise. He eve pitied the women themselves: their vanity, their looks, their lives were poor things in his eyes, so far short of what could exist. P160 The strain of his anguish lasted for another year, then went cold in him. He had no sensation of healing, no awareness that time had soothed him or lent him a longer perspective in which to view his passion. He experienced it only as a loss of memory. Her presence, which he had felt permanently in his mind, abruptly disappeared. He was left with the feeling of emotions undischarged, of a process uncompleted. The coldness enabled him to live more easily, to respond with some degree of conviction to other people; he began to regard them as something more than second-best, acting out lives that were impoverished. However, the sudden chill loss of her also made him uneasy. Something had been buried that was not yet dead. P172 Steven could feel Hunt's fear begin to infect him. P177 (Just before death)''He's shouting for his mother''. ''They always do.'' p182 He made a list of things he needed to do. Normally he enjoyed these housekeeping sessions, when he could escape from the worst of the shellfire ad turn his mind to practical tasks. P193 ''I think children need to believe in powers outside themselves. That's why they read books about witches and wizards and God knows what. There is a human need for that which childhood normally exhausts. But if a child's world is broken up by too much reality, that need goes underground. '' p205 He felt her hands on the front of his trousers. She slid her fingers inside, and pulled out what she wanted, a piece of limp flesh, like a butcher taking something from display and laying it on the wooden board. P229 He gave him his second water bottle, and when he bent down with it the man begged to be shot. In the noise of the battle, Stephen thought, no one would know. He fired twice down by his feet. It was the first life he had taken that day. P244 Naked and dripping on the sitting room carpet, she pressed the receiver to her ear, half-wondering, as she always did, whether there was any electricity in the handset and whether the water on her ear would conduct a shock into her brain. P247 She disliked being asked this question, thinking people ought to ask new acquaintances who they were rather than what they did, as though their job defined them. P247 They talked about places they had visited. He didn't give her a long exposition of capital markets or join in competitive argument with Mark; or did he too obviously flirt or fawn. He laughed at some of the things she said to him though she noticed that there was an edge of surprise in his amusement, as though something about her had not predisposed him to expect her to be light-hearted. When he did not ask her for her telephone umber she was relieved, though also fractionally disappointed. P247 She disliked being asked this question, thinking people ought to ask new acquaintances who they were rather than what they did, as though their job defined them. P247 They talked about places they had visited. He didn't give her a long exposition of capital markets or join in competitive argument with Mark; or did he too obviously flirt or fawn. He laughed at some of the things she said to him though she noticed that there was an edge of surprise in his amusement, as though something about her had not predisposed him to expect her to be light-hearted. When he did not ask her for her telephone umber she was relieved, though also fractionally disappointed. P255 he was awkward with her and used set phrases with signalled irony, as though referring to books or films they both knew. He seemed unable to say things without suggesting that they were quotations from someone else. P256 in the cinema she could drown in the sensuous load of picture and sound without the distraction of company or conversation. In the worst films she wandered off from the story and inhabited the scenery in a plot of her own. She felt self-conscious about going unaccompanied in case she should meet a couple she knew hand-in hand in the foyer on their evening out; so she generally went on Saturday afternoon, entering in the after-lunch daylight, emerging in the darkness with the full evening still ahead. P268 ''I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I'm really sorry. I’m no good for you. You must give me up for good. You must find someone else. I promise I won't make it difficult for you. '' ''It's you that I want. You are the man I love. I don't want anyone else. '' p278 it was just possible that she had chosen someone unobtainable for that very reason: that he did not threaten her independence. P288 He swallowed quickly, the sound of his own chewing magnified by the lack of conversation. P295 ''If I'm fighting on behalf of anything, I think it is for those who have died. Not for the living at home. For the dead, over here.'' p297 I think there are enemy mines but we haven't met them yet. I tell you all this, but you are not to worry about me. If you worried then I should regret having written it. P309 Perhaps there was something dangerous about revisiting places from an earlier time, but he did not feel open to any sentimental feeling. He had only a certain curiosity to see what had happened to the town. P324 It had come alive again. What he had thought dead and reduced to no more than fossil memory was beginning to leap and flame inside him. He had never foreseen such a thing, even at the deepest moments of solitude, under the worst bombardments, when he had had to look for his most childlike, fundamental means of reassurance. P333 For the first time in her life she felt she had met someone with whom she could be happy under any circumstances, in any country. He was dedicated to her well-being and she knew that if she returned that simple fidelity, no circumstances, no alterations, or even wars, could disrupt their simple, enclosed contentment. Compared to her passion for Stephen it was a muted affair, and yet it was not shallow; it made her profoundly content, and confident that at last she would be able to become the woman that she was meant to be, unhampered by restraint or deceit, and within a life that would be calm and helpful for her child. P335 Isabelle felt unforeseen tears welling up in her eyes. P344 The men loved the jokes, though they had heard each one before.....Then he began to repeat the crucial words of the jokes......Jack always ended with a song. P349 Isabelle no longer loved him; or if she did, she loved him in some distant way that did not affect her actions or her feelings for another man. P351 of course they are all doing their bit, it's just that his bit and mine seem so different. P358 Stephen found he could not concentrate on the book. His head seemed too clogged and numb for him to be able to follow the simple narrative. Although there was some stiffness in his limbs he didn't feel the ache of fatigue in any physical way; he had slept reasonably well in his small hotel room and breakfasted late. He mind, however, seemed hardly to function at all. He was capable of doing little more than sitting and staring at the landscape that went by. P359 He dozed in the corner seat and awoke with a start, having dreamed he was in the village of his childhood. Then he found he was still asleep: he had only dreamed that he had awoken. Again he found himself in a barn in a flat, pale field, with a train going by. A second time he awoke, in some fear, and tried to keep himself conscious; but again he found that he had only dreamed his awakening. P261 He wanted to sleep, but his eyelids were flickering too much. Each time sleep seemed near his body jolted him back from it. Eventually he fell into a half-waking state, like the one he had found on the train, in which brightly illuminated scenes from the last two or three years occurred at random in his mind. P366 He rang the bell, as he waited he tried to remember what Jeanne looked like, but no picture came to his mind. P373 Stephen felt dismayed at the sight. He didn't want to catch the other man's fear. He didn't want him to breathe over him. P396 She found it difficult to say goodbye to people without at least pretending that they would soon by meeting, and she found by the time she put the receiver down that she had invited Stuart to dinner. P404 Elizabeth tried to imagine what it must have been like to spend sixty years in such a place, with nothing to differentiate one day from the next. P408 Many of his male colleagues assumed it was an arrangement of convenience, a light-hearted sideshow of the kind the majority of them enjoyed. But Elizabeth was different, he had been addicted to her initially in a physical way: a week without her body made him vague and irritable. P409 Robert pretended to protest when she took control of small aspects of his life, but privately he was pleased. He admired her for knowing about such things and he was flattered that she cared enough about him for it to matter. … He feared boring her, but she clearly liked the sardonic way he described the various meetings and dinners he had attended. P414 (Reflecting her life). It was a rush and slither of trivial crises; of uncertain cash flow, small triumphs, occasional sex and too many cigarettes; of missed deadlines that turned out not to matter; of arguments, new clothes, bursts of altruism and sincere resolutions to address the important thing. Of all these and other other experiences that made up her life, the most significant aspect was the one suggested by the words ''turned out not to matter''. Although she was happy enough with what she had become, it was this continued sense of the easy, the inessential nature of what she did, that most irritated her.