He remembered that right after that, he had stolen a loaf of bread from a delicatessen counter and had taken it home and devoured it, feeling that the world owed a loaf of bread to him, and more.
Patricia HighsmithTom laughed at the phrase "sexual deviation." Where was the sex? Where was the deviation? He looked at Freddie and said low and bitterly: "Freddie Miles, you're a victim of your own dirty mind.
Patricia HighsmithAnticipation! It occurred to him that his anticipation was more pleasant to him than the experiencing.
Patricia HighsmithHe loved possessions, not masses of them, but a select few that he did not part with. They gave a man self-respect. Not ostentation but quality, and the love that cherished the quality. Possessions reminded him that he existed, and made him enjoy his existence. It was as simple as that. And wasn't that worth something? He existed. Not many people in the world knew how to, even if they had the money. It really didn't take money, masses of money, it took a certain security.
Patricia HighsmithWhat chance combination of shadow and sound and his own thoughts had created it?
Patricia HighsmithMots clés mind chance creation strangers shadow thoughts trickster sound train patricia-highsmith strangers-on-a-train nightp
I know you have it in you, Guy," Anne said suddenly at the end of a silence, "the capacity to be terribly happy.
Patricia HighsmithMots clés truth happiness silence human happy strangers train patricia-highsmith strangers-on-a-train terribly
But there were too many points at which the other self could invade the self he wanted to preserve, and there were too many forms of invasion: certain words, sounds, lights, actions his hands or feet performed, and if he did nothing at all, heard and saw nothing, the shouting of some triumphant inner voice that shocked him and cowed him.
Patricia HighsmithMots clés life words mind self sounds actions strangers voice inner-voice train shouting invasion lights patricia-highsmith strangers-on-a-train inner-voicery shocked
Just what did happen to a corpse under water for four, five years, even three? the tarpaulin or canvas would rot, perhaps more than half of it would disappear; the stones would likely have fallen out, therefore, enabling the corpse to drift more easily, even rise a little, provided any flesh was left. But wasn't rising due to bloating? Tom thought of the word maceration, the flaking off in layers of the outer skin. Then what? The nibbling of fish? Or wouldn't the current have removed pieces of flesh until nothing but bones were left? The bloated period must be long past...
Patricia HighsmithHonesty, for me, is usually the worst policy imaginable.
Patricia HighsmithMots clés honesty corruption
Honestly, I don't understand why people get so worked up about a little murder!
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