Quotes by Brian Moore

“There comes a point in many peoples lives when they can no longer play the role they have chosen for themselves. When that happens, we are like actors finding that someone has changed the play.”

“When youre a writer you no longer see things with the freshness of the normal person. There are always two figures that work inside you.”

“The silent majority distrusts people who believe in causes.”

“As always on this boulevard, the faces were young, coming annually in an endless migration from every country, every continent, to alight here once in the long journey of their lives.”

“The worlds made up of individuals who dont want to be heroes.”

“And now we have the formalities over, well have the National Anthems.”

“If misery loves company, then triumph demands an audience.”

“As the flow of subliterary news items and anecdotes increases, the writers work withers and stales until, in grim transference, his life becomes his oeuvre and he his only character.”

“Research is usually a policeman stopping a novel from progressing.”

“The brace works like a bumper on your car. It absorbs the load. So a lot of the load isnt distributed through the body, its actually distributed through the brace.”

Dont you know that love isnt just going to bed? Love isnt an act, its a whole life. Its staying with her now because she needs you; its knowing you and she will still care about each other when sex and daydreams, fights and futures -- when all thats on the shelf and done with. Love -- why, Ill tell you what love is: its you at seventy-five and her at seventy-one, each of you listening for the others step in the next room, each afraid that a sudden silence, a sudden cry, could mean a lifetimes talk is over.

What could he be thinking of? He seemed to be trying to remember something, perhaps an engagement, perhaps an excuse to leave her. For eventually, they all made some excuse.

And the bell jangled, the driver started. The bus whirled off, to the last stop, the lonely room, the lonely night.

And maybe, although it was a thing you could hardly bear to think about, like death or your last judgment, maybe he would be the last one ever and he would walk away now and it would only be a question of waiting for it all to end and hoping for better things in the next world. But that was silly, it was never too late.

The immigrant who comes to Canada really sees the country much more as a whole. He doesnt know the nuances which are so important and so dearly beloved by the Torontonian or the Montrealer.

We also serve who only punctuate.

When youre a writer you no longer see things with the freshness of the normal person. There are always two figures that work inside you and if you are at all intelligent you realize that you have lost something. But I think there has always been this dichotomy in a real writer. He wants to be terribly human and he responds emotionally but at the same time theres this cold observer who cannot cry.

“Dont you know that love isnt just going to bed? Love isnt an act, its a whole life. Its staying with her now because she needs you; its knowing you and she will still care about each other when sex and daydreams, fights and futures -- when all thats on the shelf and done with. Love -- why, Ill tell you what love is: its you at seventy-five and her at seventy-one, each of you listening for the others step in the next room, each afraid that a sudden silence, a sudden cry, could mean a lifetimes talk is over.”