In England, art was much less likely to be mentioned in polite society than sexual perversions or methods of torture.
No pain is too small if it hurts, but any pain is too big if it's cherished.
They had drifted apart, as people do when they promise to stay in touch; the ones who are going to stay in touch don't need to promise.
Everything was usual. That was depression: being stuck, clinging to an out-of-date version of oneself.