1. (P13)
When he was much older, he was to look back upon his last two undergraduate years as if they were an unreal time that belonged to someone else, a time that passed, not in the regular flow to which he was used, but in fits and starts. One moment was juxtaposed against another, yet isolated from it, and he had the feeling that he was removed from time, watching as it passed before hime like a great unevenly turned diorama.
2. (P15)
The past gathered out of the darkness where it stayed, and the dead caused themselves to live before him; and the past and the dead flowed into the present among the alive, so that he had for an intense instant a vision of denseness into which he was compacted and from which he could not escape, and had no wish to escape.
3. ( P54)
Her moral training, both at the schools she attended and at home, was negative in nature, prohibitive in intent, and almost entirely sexual. The sexuality, however, was indirect and unacknowledged; therefore it suffused every other part of her education, which received most of its energy from that recessive and unspoken moral force.
4. (P54)
She learned that she would have duties toward her husband and family and that she must fulfill them.
5. (P69)
Automobiles, pedestrians, and carriages crept on the narrow streets below them; they seemed to themselves far removed from the run of humanity and its pursuits.
6. (P90)
The coroner announced heart failure as the cause of death, but William Stoner always felt that in a moment of anger and despair Sloane has willed his heart to cease, as if in a last mute gesture of love and contempt for a world that had betrayed him so profoundly that he could not endure in it.
7. (P91)
And because he had no family or loved ones to mourn his passing, it was Stoner who wept when the casket was lowered, as if that weeping might reduce the loneliness of the last descent.
8. (P125)
He turned off the lamp there, so that the desk top was gray and lifeless, and wear across to the couch, where he lay with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling.
9. (P184)
His attention wandered from the pages he held before him, and more and more often he found himself staring dully in front of him, at nothing it was as if from moment to moment his mind were emptied of all it knew and as if his will were drained of its strength. He felt as times that he was a kind of vegetable, and he longed for something - even pain - to pierce him, to bring him alive.
10. (P184-185)
He took a grim and ironic pleasure from the possibility that what little leaning he had managed to acquire had led him to this knowledge : that in the long run all things, even the learning that let him know this, were futile and empty, and at last diminished into a nothingness they did not alter.
11. (P185)
He heard the silence of the winter night, and it seemed to him that he somehow felt the sounds that were absorbed by the delicate and intricately cellular being of the snow. Nothing moved upon the white whiteness; it was a dead scene, which seemed to pull at him, to suck at his consciousness just as it pulled the sound from the air and buried it within a cold white softness. He felt himself pulled outward toward the whiteness, which spread as far as he could see, and which was a part of the darkness from which it glowed, of the clear and cloudless sky without height or depth. For an instant he felt himself go out of the body that sat motionless before the window.
12. (P186)
He was forty-two years old, and he could see nothing before him that he wished to enjoy and little behind him that he cared to remember.
13. (P254)
Yet another part of him was drawn intensely toward that very holocaust from which he recoiled. He found within himself a capacity for violence he did not know he had: he yearned for involvement, he wished for the taste of death, the bitter joy of destruction, the feel of blood. He felt both shame and pride, and over it all a bitter disappointment, in himself and in the time and circumstance that made him possible.