Quotes from Alexander McCall Smith

If efficiency were the only value in this life, then we would be content to eat bland but nutritious food every day--and the same food at that. That would keep us alive, but it would make for very dull mealtimes.

It was the beauty of the country before them that had done it. Scotland was a place of attenuated light, of fragility, of a beauty that broke the heart.

Men talked about things that happened in the world, about events; women, by contrast, talked amongst themselves about being in the world. The difference was crucial.

Look at what very ordinary people have lost, and think about that for a moment. What has happened to working-class communities in Scotland? To miners, for example. To fishermen? Who? You might well ask. To men and women who work with their hands? Who again? These people are being swept away by globalisation. Swept away. Now they're all so demoralised that they're caught in the culture of permanent sick notes. And who speaks for the young Scottish male, as a matter of interest?

We do need somebody else in this life, thought Mma Ramotswe; we need a person whom we can make our little god on this earth, as the old Kgatla saying had it. Whether it was a spouse, or a child, or a parent, or anybody else for that matter, there must be somebody who gives our lives purpose.

It was Coolidge of whom Dorothy Parker, when told of his death, asked, "How can they tell?" Dorothy Parker was extremely witty, but in this case her amusing observation obscured the fact that Coolidge, who was undoubtedly dull, was also a fairly successful president–for the very reason that he did nothing, and said even less. That would not be possible today, of course. People had to do things, and would not rest until they had done them.

Perhaps there was no real point to our existence–or none that we could discern–and that meant that the real question that had to be asked was this: How can I make my life bearable? We are here whether we like it or not, and by and large we seem to have a need to continue. In that case, the real question to be addressed is: How are we going to make the experience of being here as fulfilling, as good as possible?

The world was not perfect—it never had been and never would be; it was full of pitfalls and problems, of fear, of regrets and of bitter tears. Here and there, though, there were tiny points of light, hard to see at times, but there nonetheless, like the welcoming lights of home in the darkness. The flames that made these lights were hard to ignite, but occasionally, very occasionally, we found that we had in our hands the match that could be struck to start one of these little fires.

love was a form of blindness that closed the eyes to the most glaring faults.

All of us had a view from somewhere

Why not imagine a talk with a pumpkin? Why not imagine going off for a drive with a friendly pumpkin, a companion who would not, after all, answer back; who would agree with everything you said, and would at the end of the day appear on your plate as a final gesture of friendship?

A book on wind energy, Our Invisible Future, sat on a small pedestal, next to several titles on climate change. This book must be read by all those who use electricity, pronounced a handwritten placard below the book. Ulf raised an eyebrow. He used electricity, and was well disposed towards green energy, but did everyone have to read this?

To lose your own language was like forgetting your mother, and as sad, in a way.

Perhaps the cloud had blown over and covered his sky.

Worse things have happened, is what she says in such circumstances. And I suppose she's right. There's always something worse happening elsewhere. It's worth reminding ourselves of that, I suppose.

Znajdujemy w ?yciu to, czego szukamy, powiedzia? kiedy? do niej ojciec. I mia? racj?: je?li szukasz w ?yciu szcz??cia, znajdziesz szcz??cie, je?li szukasz nieufno?ci, zazdro?ci i nienawi?ci, to znajdziesz nieufno??, zazdro?? i nienawi??.

We were all different, she thought, and it was important to remind oneself of that. It was important, too, to imagine what it must be like to be another person. That was a simple thing to do, and its effect could be salutary.

the finding of a cargo of whisky was, in a sense, like the finding by the Israelites of manna in the wilderness. And

nemo dat quod non habet.

photographs on a wall were there for people to see and to examine if interested; an album is a different thing…

Usually bullies have severe mothers and bad fathers, and they are usually frightened of them. That is why they are bullies, I think. There is something wrong at home. I have found that with children in general and this applies to men as well.

Kindness, after all, did not distinguish between those who merited it and those who did not. It was like rain, she thought. It fell everywhere and made everything green and new and alive once more. That is what it did.

The widow shook her head. "He was a man of the very broadest outlook, but he never believed in going anywhere. He had a very sensitive stomach, you know, and that is always a disincentive to travel. If you have a sensitive stomach, it is undoubtedly best to remain at home.

No, I mean it. People think that everybody has been involved with somebody else, whatever their nature. They find it inconceivable that one might go through life never finding anybody. But you know something, Caroline? I think that's far more common than you would ever imagine. There are plenty of people in that position.