The battle was over. Our causalities were some thirteen thousand killed. Thirteen thousand minds, memories, loves, sensations, worlds, universes- because the human mind is more a universe than the universe itself- and all for a few hundred yards of useless mud.

John Fowles

Tags: the-magus



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You do not even think of your own past as quite real; you dress it up, you gild it or blacken it, censor it, tinker with it...fictionalize it, in a word, and put it away on a shelf - your book, your romanced autobiography. We are all in the flight from the real reality. That is the basic definition of Homo sapiens.

John Fowles

Tags: past reality



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You wish to be liked. I wish simply to be.

John Fowles


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I must fight with my weapons. Not his. Not selfishness and brutality and shame and resentment.

John Fowles

Tags: fight weapons shame selfishness resentment brutality john collector fowles



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When I was going on one day in the car about not having any close friends - using my favourite metaphor: the cage of glass between me and the rest of the world - she just laughed. 'You like it,' she said. 'You say you're isolated, boyo, but you really think you're different.

John Fowles

Tags: different isolation friendlessness



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I'm only happy when I forget to exist. When just my eyes or my ears or my skin exist.

John Fowles

Tags: reading existence movies



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I needed a new mystery.

John Fowles

Tags: mystery dissatisfaction



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Between skin and skin there is only light. And there was my poetry.

John Fowles

Tags: real-world-versus-words



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Poetry had always seemed something I could turn to in need - an emergency exit, a lifebuoy, as well as a justification.

John Fowles

Tags: poetry



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To write poetry and to commit suicide, apparently so contradictory, had really been the same, attempts at escape. And my feelings, at the end of that wretched term, were those of a man who knows he's in a cage, exposed to the jeers of all his old ambitions until he dies.

John Fowles

Tags: poetry ambition



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