Novelists From England

"“Well,” he says, “if you’re dead, Peterborough is as good a place as any.”"

"“Jane,” he says, “if the time comes when you wish to disburden your conscience, do not go to a priest, come to me. The priest will give you a penance, but I will give you a reward.”"

"In March, Parliament knocks back his new poor law. It was too much for the Commons to digest, that rich men might have some duty to the poor; but if you get fat, as gentlemen of England do, on the wool trade, you have some responsibility to the men turned off the land, the labourers without labour, the sowers without a field. England needs roads, forts, harbours, bridges. Men need work. It’s a shame to see them begging their bread, when honest labour could keep the realm secure. Can we not put them together, the hands and the task? But Parliament cannot see how it is the state’s job to create work. Are not these matters in God’s hands, and is not poverty and dereliction part of his eternal order? To everything there is a season: a time to starve and a time to thieve. If rain falls for six months solid and rots the grain in the fields, there must be providence in it; for God knows his trade. It is an outrage to the rich and enterprising, to suggest that they should pay an income tax, only to put bread in the mouths of the workshy. And if Secretary Cromwell argues that famine provokes criminality: well, are there not hangmen enough?"

"Of his cousin Anne he says, “You like to know where you are with a woman. Is she a harlot, or a lady? Anne wants you to treat her like the Virgin Mary, but she also wants you to put your cash on the table, do the business and get out.”"

"He sensed in Jane’s tone the peculiar cruelty of women. They fight with the poor weapons God has bestowed – spite, guile, skill in deceit – and it is likely that in conversations between themselves they trespass in places where a man would never trust his footing."

"She knows adultery is a sin and treason a crime, but to be on the losing side is a greater fault than these."

"Richard hugs him; says, “If she had reigned longer she would have given us to the dogs to eat.” “If we had let her reign longer, we would have deserved it.”"

"“The burden of kingship,” he says, “no man can imagine it. All my life, to be a prince: to be observed to be a prince; all eyes to be set on me; to be an exemplar of virtue, of discretion, of excellence in learning; to have a mind young and vigorous yet as wise as Solomon; to take pleasure in what others have designed for my pleasure, or be thought ungrateful; to discipline all my appetites, to unmake myself as a man in order to make myself as a king; to waste not a minute list I be seen to waste it; for idleness, no excuses; always alert to prove, always to show, that I am worthy of the place God appointed me…”"

"When I was first in his service he thought of our Zürich friends as no more than blasphemers who eat sausage in Lent. And Luther, he believed he was the son of a demon, who foams at the mouth when Mass is said. But what you must remember about the king—he was brought up to heed priests and to ask forgiveness for everything he does. You may kick out the confessors and tell him he is justified, but he still has a priest in the head."

"“Their abbots will curse you.” “Curses with me have none effect, because I give them no credit. They may curse till they combust.”"

"“The first news is always wrong,” he says."

"“Majesty, was it not an honest mistake?” “Women are the beginning of all mistakes. Read any of the divines, and they will tell you.”"

"The purpose of ghost stories is extortion, generally: to frighten poor folks into paying for prayers and charms to protect them."

"His word is just what a diplomat’s word should be: as clear as glass and as unstable as water."

"Henry stirs into life. “Do I retain you for what is easy? Jesus pity my simplicity, I have promoted you to a place in this kingdom that no one, no one of your breeding has ever held in the whole of the history of this realm.” He drops his voice. “Do you think it is for your personal beauty? The charm of your presence? I keep you, Master Cromwell, because you are as cunning as a bag of serpents. But do not be a viper in my bosom. You know my decision. Execute it.”"

"He thinks, ten years I have had my soul flattened and pressed till it’s not the thickness of paper. Henry has ground and ground me in the mill of his desires, and now I am fined down to dust I am no more use to him, I am powder in the wind. Princes hate those to whom they have incurred debts."

"But the law is not an instrument to find out truth. It is there to create a fiction that will help us move past atrocious acts and face our future. It seems there is no mercy in this world, but a kind of haphazard justice: men pay for crimes, but not necessarily their own."

"“You shouldn’t believe in ghosts,” he says uncertainly. “I don’t,” Martin says. “But who are they to care, if I believe in them or not?”"

"He says, this silence of More’s, it was never really silence, was it? It was loud with his treason; it was quibbling as far as quibbles would serve him, it was demurs and cavils, suave ambiguities. It was fear of plain words, or the assertion that plain words pervert themselves; More’s dictionary, against our dictionary. You can have a silence full of words. A lute retains, in its bowl, the notes it has played. The viol, in its strings, holds a concord. A shriveled petal can hold its scent, a prayer can rattle with curses; an empty house, when the owners have gone out, can still be loud with ghosts."

"He had thought, if ever I need to disappear, Venice is where I will come."

"I don’t have a history, only a past."

"It is better not to try people, not to force them to desperation. Make them prosper; out of superfluity, they will be generous. Full bellies breed gentle manners. The pinch of famine makes monsters."

"“Blessed are the meek,” he says. “Yes, so they claim. I notice where it gets you.”"

"All the same: in the village alehouses up and down England, they are blaming the king and Anne Boleyn for the weather: the concubine, the great whore. If the king would take back his lawful wife Katherine, the rain would stop. And indeed, who can doubt that everything would be different and better, if only England were ruled by village idiots and their drunken friends?"

"“Gregory,” Richard says, “what we want from you is less theology and more swagger.”"

"“He was fretting about poison. He mentioned you.” The doctor pauses. “I do not mean to say he accused you.” “Some men always think they’re poisoned. In Italy one hears it.” “Well,” Butts says, “in Italy they are probably right.”"

"Once they were young men of esprit, young men of élan. A quarter of a century has passed and they are grey or balding, flabby or punchy, gone in the fetlock or missing some fingers, but still as arrogant as satraps and with the mental refinement of a gatepost."

"He, Cromwell, says to his visitors, just tell them this, and tell them loud: to each monk, one bed: to each bed, one monk. Is that so hard for them? The world-weary tell him, these sins are sure to happen, if you shut up men without recourse to women they will prey on the younger and weaker novices, they are men and it is only a man’s nature. But are they supposed to rise above nature? What’s the point of all the prayer and fasting, if it leaves them insufficient when the devil comes to tempt them?"

"The word “however” is like an imp coiled beneath your chair. It induces ink to form words you have not yet seen, and lines to march across the page and overshoot the margin. There are no endings. If you think so you are deceived as to their nature. They are all beginnings. Here is one."

"Usually he is the soul of courtesy. But if you cannot speak truth at a beheading, when can you speak it?"

"“I hear you will bring in a law,” Kingston says. “It seems harsh, to make them commit a crime in retrospect.” They try to explain it to the constable. A prince cannot be impeded by temporal distinctions: past, present, future. Nor can he excuse the past, just for being over and done. He can’t say, ‘all water under the bridges;’ the past is always trickling under the soil, a slow leak you can’t trace. Often, meaning is only revealed retrospectively. The will of God, for instance, is brought to light these days by more skilful translators. As for the future, the king’s desires move swiftly and the law must run to keep up. Bear in mind his Majesty’s remarkable foresight, at the trial of the late queen. He knew the sentence before the verdict was in. “True,” Kingston says. “The executioner was already on the sea."

"He had long ago abandoned the idea that there was any point in reading books. Perfectly uselessthat was their essential charm. He’d given up reading new books altogether. Someone, he couldn’t remember who, had recommended he read a novel by some Jewish chap. Turned out to be all about wanking. ‘Whacking-off’ he called it. Summed up modern literature perfectly."

"'Not that there was anything particularly wrong with Marxism as a concept,' McWhinnie grinned. 'It just didn’t work in practice. Much the same as you could say about Christianity; all right as a concept. I trust I don’t offend you,’ he tugged at his jacket-cuffs. 'Not in the slightest.’ McWhinnie looked disappointed."

"For him scholarship had been a refuge: he valued literature not as a reflection of reality, but as an escape route from it. … [In literature] nature was methodised, the poet was always a prince, and the scholar found himself elevated to an all-powerful magus reducing the randomness of events to a dream of traditional order."

"Now, producers are known to be God-like creatures, and the chief point of resemblance is that they must either create new stars or have no public."

"“Pray, sir,” said she, “tell me only, where am I?” “Why, in Hell, to be sure,” said he, with a hearty laugh. “Oh, thank goodness!” cried she. “I thought I was in Buenos Aires.”"

"It is a sad reflection on life that when there is only one thing to do it is always extremely unpleasant."

"“You lovers,” said his companion, “are surprised by nothing, except first that your mistress should fancy you, and next, that they should fancy someone else.”"

"She was complete in every particular, and all of the highest quality; she was a picture gallery, an anthology of the poets, a precipitation of all that has ever been dreamed of love: her goodly eyes like Saphyres shining bright, her forehead yvory white, her cheeks lyke apples which the sun hath rudded, her lips lyke cherryes charming men to bite, her brest lyke to a bowle of creame uncrudded, her paps lyke a lyllies budded, her snowie neck lyke to a marble towre; and all her body like a pallace fayre, ascending up, with many a stately stayre, to honours seat and chastities sweet bowre."

"“I hope all your mixtures are not as expensive,” said Alan apprehensively. “Oh, dear, no,” said the old man. “It would be no good charging you that sort of price for a love potion, for example. Young people who need a love potion very seldom have five thousand dollars. Otherwise they would not need a love potion.”"

"“Humphrey, dear,” she said, “we hear you’ve become famous. Is it true?” “It's true if you've heard it,” he replied. “That's what fame is.”"

"Take a friendly word of advice. You don't want to make pictures. It’s nothing but worry. Besides, you'll get mixed up with a lot of actors."

"I reflected that where vanity of that sort is to be found on one side of a contract there is always hope on the other."

"There is no bore like a despairing lover."

"He knew that I was impressed, but I knew that he wished to impress me. This made us even, except of course that he still had the money."

"“That does not take you to Hell,” said Louis, “but only to Barons Court. The mistake is pardonable.”"

"“Selfishness and greed,” said he, “have made the world what it is today.”"

"Franklin Fletcher dreamed of luxury in the form of tiger-skins and beautiful women. He was prepared, at a pinch, to forgo the tiger-skins. Unfortunately the beautiful women seemed equally rare and inaccessible."

"“To listen,” said little Guis, “is to be drunk without spending a penny. You think you understand; you seem to fly through the air; you have to burst out laughing.”"

"Alice and Irwin were as simple and as happy as any young couple in a family-style motion picture. In fact, they were even happier, for people were not looking at them all the time and their joys were not restricted by the censorship code."