When he comes into a room, you give a little gasp, deep inside, far inside,' someone once said when trying to describe what it meant to love.

Margaret George

Mots clés love



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In my experience, there are two things that no one will admit to: having no sense of humor and being susceptible to flattery.

Margaret George

Mots clés weaknesses



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What is one person's diversion may be another's supreme test.

Margaret George


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I had a desire to see something besides my own shores, if only to be content to return to them someday. If I wish to live in my native land and love her, it should not be out of ignorance.

Margaret George

Mots clés travel



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Hope is a straw hat hanging beside a window covered with frost.

Margaret George

Mots clés hope



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The most wicked criminals have God on their lips at all times, for God is the only one who can stomach them.

Margaret George

Mots clés religion



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Things do not happen, we must make them happen

Margaret George


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So I learned two things that night, and the next day, from him: the perfection of a moment, and the fleeting nature of it.

Margaret George

Mots clés life love loss journey relationships fiction epiphany cleopatra



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Now I felt the long-forgotten urgency of lovemaking, when it seems one's human selves leave, to be replaced by hungry beasts bolting their food. Gone are the civilized beings who talk of manners and journeys and letters; in their places are two bodies straining to give birth to a burst of inhuman pleasure followed by a great, floating nothingness. An explosion of life followed by death - in this we live, and in this we foreshadow our own sweet deaths.

Margaret George


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It is almost impossible to describe happiness, because at the time it feels entirely natural, as if all the rest of your life has been the aberration; only in retrospect does it swim into focus as the rare and precious thing it is. When it is present, it seems to be eternal, abiding forever, and there is no need to examine it or clutch it. Later, when it has evaporated, you stare in dismay at your empty palm, where only a little of the perfume lingers to prove that once it was there, and now is flown.

Margaret George


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