I know what it's like when people go away. It's agony for a week, then painful for a week, then you begin to forget, and then it seems as it never happened, it happened to someone else, and you start shrugging. You say, dingo, it's life, that's the way the things are. Stupid things like that. As if you haven't really lost something for ever.
John FowlesAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Writer
- Nationality: english
- Born: March 31, 1926
- Died: November 5, 2005
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The merciless Macdonald(Worthy to be a rebel,? for, to that, The multiplying villainies of nature. Do swarm upon him) from the Western Isles. Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; And Fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, Showed like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: For brave Macbeth (well he deserves that name)Disdaining Fortune, with his brandish'd steel, Which smoked with bloody execution, Like valour's minion, Carv'd out his passage.
William Shakespeare