And while Trish stared - stared, as it now seemed, into her own eyes - Guy held her hand and watched the crowd: how it bled colour from the enormous room and drew all energy towards itself, forming one triumphal being; how it trembled, then burst or came or died, releasing individuality; and how the champion was borne along on its subsidence, his back slapped, his hair tousled, mimed by female hands and laughing, like the god of mobs.
Martin AmisAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: british
- Born: August 25, 1949
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Once I laughed when, I heard you sayingthat I'd be playing, solitaire, uneasy in my, easy chair. It never entered my mind. Once you told me, I was mistaken, that I'd awaken, with the sunand order orange juice for one. It never entered my mind. You have what I lack myselfand now I even have to scratch my back myself. Once you warned me that if you scorned me. I'd sing the maiden's prayer againand wish that you were there againto get into my hair again. It never entered my mind.
Lorenz Hart