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480 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1989
Can we ever break free of the devices and desires of our own hearts?
"Life has always been unsatisfactory for most people for most of the time. The world isn't designed for our satisfaction. That's no reason for trying to pull it down about our ears."
He said: “Am I expected to talk about his poetry?”
“I imagine he’s come to Larksoken to get away from people who want to talk about his poetry. But it wouldn’t hurt you to take a look at it. I’ve got the most recent volume. And it is poetry, not prose rearranged on the page.”
“With modern verse, can one tell the difference?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “If it can be read as prose, then it is prose. It’s an infallible test.” - Alex and Alice Mair discuss the poetry of Adam Dalgliesh.
... a large oil showing a man with a rifle on a skinny horse, posed in a bleak landscape of sand and scrubland with, in the background, a range of distant mountains. But the man had no head. Instead he was wearing a huge square helmet of black metal with a slit for the eyes. Rickards found the picture disturbingly intimidating. He had a faint memory that he had seen a copy of it, or of something very like it, before, and that the artist was Australian. He was irritated to find himself thinking that Adam Dalgliesh would have known what it was and who had painted it - Inspector Rickards examines a painting in the office of Dr. Alex Mair at Larksoken Nuclear Power Station.
She wanted to cry out: "You can't be going to use it! . . . " Instead, she made herself go on, trying to keep her voice calm. . . . (408)
Meg wanted to cry out: ". . . Don't begin planning more lies." (409)