Fallen leaves lying on the grass in the November sun bring more happiness than the daffodils.
NovemberCyril ConnollyLiterature is the art of writing something that will be read twice; journalism what will be grasped at once.
Literature, JournalismCyril ConnollyClassical and romantic: private language of a family quarrel, a dead dispute over the distribution of emphasis between man and nature.
Cyril ConnollyThe secret of success is to be in harmony with existence, to be always calm to let each wave of life wash us a little farther up the shore.
Cyril ConnollyThe true index of a man's character is the health of his wife.
Cyril ConnollyThe dread of lonliness is greater than the fear of bondage, so we get married.
Cyril Connolly