Quotes from Barbara Pym

But now respectable elderly women do not need to excuse themselves for buying brandy or even gin, though it is quite likely that some still do and perhaps one may hope that they always will.

Prudence's flat was in the kind of block where Jane imagined people might be found dead, though she had never said this to Prudence herself; it seemed rather a macabre fancy and not one to be confided to an unmarried woman living alone.

But at least it made one realize that life still held infinite possibilities for change.

Mimosa did lose its first freshness too quickly to be worth buying and I must not allow myself to have feelings, but must only observe the effects of other people's.

I forebore to remark that women like me really expected very little - nothing, almost.

Mr Boultbee seems to have done us a good turn," said Nicholas. "I gather his sermons were not much liked." No; we got very tired of Africa and I didn't feel that what he told us rang quite true. He said that one African chief had had a thousand wives. I found that a little difficult to believe." Well, we know what men are," said Jane casually, surprised that Miss Dogget, with her insistence on men only wanting one thing, should have found this difficult to believe.

it was as if no woman could be really happy even when she was being taken out to dinner. He felt he ought to say something profound, but, naturally enough, nothing profound came out.

Yes, life has to go on, and I suppose a cup of tea does make it seem to be doing that more than anything.

Such a nice couple they made, Sister Dew thought, seeing him return alone to his own house. She wondered if she should take him one of the steak and kidney pies she had baked that morning, but then – with unusual delicacy – judged it to be not quite the moment. And of course there was no question of taking one to Miss Broome – one did not take cooked food to lone women in the same way as to lone men.

But it's a good feeling and one does so like to have that.

It was only sometimes, when a spring day came in the middle of winter, that one had a sudden feeling that nothing was really impossible.

The lesson started. We were to learn the subjunctive, and I found myself wondering whether I could take so kindly to the Portuguese now that I realized how often they seemed to use it. It seemed as if there were going to be a great many things I couldn't possibly say.

Jane wanted to agree and to offer him the broken dwarf, perhaps for Constance's grave, as a kind of comment on the futility of earthly love, but instead she said gently, 'You must make Jessie happy. That will be the right thing for you now.

At least he would be taking away a pot of his favourite jelly, which was a great deal more than one usually got out of trying to interfere in other people's business.

Yes, I like sitting at a table in the sun,' I agreed, 'but I'm afraid I'm one of those typical English tourists who always wants a cup of tea.

Although invariably kind and courteous he had the air of seeming not to be particularly interested in human beings – a somewhat doubtful quality in a parish priest, though it had its advantages.

Yes, I love September,' agreed Belinda, guilty at having let her thoughts wander from her guest. 'Michaelmas daisies and blackberries and comforting things like fires in the evening again and knitting.

It is often supposed that those who live and work in academic or intellectual circles are above the petty disputes that vex the rest of us, but it does sometimes seem as if the exalted nature of their work makes it necessary for them to descend occasionally and to refresh themselves, as it were, by squabbling about trivialities.

What was the point of living in a suburb if one couldn't show a healthy curiosity about one's neighbours?

Well, I haven't really anything to eat at home, I began, but then stopped, as I realised that a dreary revelation of the state of one's larder was hardly the way to respond to an invitation to dinner.

Rhoda was not in the least envious of her sister's fuller life, for now that they were both in their fifties there seemed to be very little difference between them.

Miss Clovis was acting as secretary to the selection committee and enjoyed the work which was congenial to her natural curiosity about people and her desire to arrange their lives for them.

I'm so glad you write happy endings,' said Mabel. 'After all, life isn't really so unpleasant as some writers make out, is it? she added hopefully. 'No, perhaps not. It's comic and sad and indefinite—dull, sometimes, but seldom really tragic or deliriously happy, except when one's very young.

It was odd to think that he himself had once been on the threshold of that kind of life and that he had thrown it all away, as it were, to go out to Africa and study the ways of a so-called primitive tribe. For really, when one came to consider it, what could be more primitive than the rigid ceremonial of launching a debutante on the marriage market?