Hanif Kureishi

Intimacy by Hanif Kureishi (1998)

Perhaps every day should contain at least one essential infidelity.
Like my children I appreciate a good story, particularly if I’ve heard it before.
Silence is a language.We thought that things would be enough.
Terrible feelings go away after a time – that is one of the terrible things about them.
There was never great passion – perhaps that was the point.
At home we are necessary politicians.
Perhaps happiness is an acquired taste.
Why can’t they be blamed for being bad at promiscuity?
People don’t want you to have too much pleasure.
I am afraid of getting comfortable in my own house.
It will rebellious in those days to like music that didn’t sound better the louder it was played.
It is less of everything that I want.
We live in all our days at once.
Art is easy for those who can do it, and impossible for those who can’t.
It is great music but you wouldn’t want to listen to it.
For a long time I had the strange feeling that my mother reminded me of someone I used to know.
I freeze, as one does when things are getting illegitimately interesting.
Patience is a virtue only in children and the imprisoned.
It isn’t any fun giving up things that aren’t fun.
When unnerved I start thinking of pleasures to relinquish.
Surely you can’t be replacing people who don’t provide what you need?
There are adjustments but not revolution.
Not wanting to take yes for an answer.
Without love, most of life remains concealed.
I wanted to be good at being helped.
You don’t stop loving someone just because you hate them.
She could see herself now only in photographs.
Often I made the mistake, when young, of starting a book at the beginning and reading through to the end.