Iris Murdoch

Every portrait is a self-portrait,’ said Rain.

Artists do paint themselves in their sitters,’ said Rain, ‘often in quite material ways. Burne-Jones made all his people look thin and gloomy like himself. Romney always reproduced his own nose, Van Dyck his own hands.’

keep your mouth shut.’

‘You always make that futile remark,’ said Nan, ‘and I never do. Will there be company?’ Nan hated company. Mor liked it

We defend ourselves by descriptions and tame the world by generalizing. What does he fear? is usually the key to the artist’s mind. Art is so often a barrier.

The first glimpse of someone’s face after they have made an irrevocable gesture of affection is always instructive and moving.

A serious kiss can alter the world and should not be allowed to take place simply because the scene will be disfigured without it.

‘So,’ said Francis. ‘Priscilla is in hell. Well, we all are. Life is torture, consciousness is torture. All our little devices are just morphia to stop us from screaming.’

I’m a damned clever woman who wants to have fun for the rest of her life, real fun, and happiness, not just emotional messes.

‘An alternative would be to do what you do. Finish nothing, publish nothing, nourish a continual grudge against the world, and live with an unrealized idea of perfection which makes you feel superior to those who try and fail.’
‘How clearly you put it.’