If an author was a god, then he was a very poor second-rate one, scrabbling around in the foothills of Olympus.
I, of course, am considered mad, bad and dangerous to know.
I'm always so glad,' Sylvie murmured, 'that I don't have to take a turn at being other people.''You're very good at being yourself,' Ursula said, aware that it didn't necessarily sound like a complime...
He caught the look on her face, a mixture of distaste and confusion which eventually resolved into something more cryptic. Women usually needed to be acquainted with him a little longer before he saw...
Happiness, like life itself, was as fragile as a bird’s heartbeat, as fleeting as the bluebells in the wood, but while it lasted, Fox Corner was an Arcadian dream.
Dr. Kellet said, it’s a snake with its tail in its mouth. He nodded approvingly and said to Sylvie, It’s a symbol representing the circularity of the universe. Time is a construct, in reality everythi...
But I know nothing; my future is a wide-open vista, leading to an unknown country - The Rest Of My Life.
Being kind modified the extraordinary, alarming otherness of him, which was threefold—large, male and American.
Art is anything created by one person and enjoyed by another.
All those unclaimed arms and legs lost in the fields of Flanders – Ursula imagined them pushing roots down into the mud and shoots up to the sky and growing once again into men. An army of men marchin...
All that is necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for enough good women to do nothing. The
‘Why did you have children?’ Bertie asked, later in their lives. ‘Was it just the biological imperative to breed?’ ‘That’s why everyone has children,’ Viola said. ‘They just dress it up as something m...
When I'm writing, my neural pathways get blocked. I can't read. I can barely hold a conversation without forgetting words and names. I wish I could wear the same clothes and eat the same food each day...
Words are the only things that can construct a world that makes sense.
She had never been pregnant, never been a mother or a wife and it was only when she realized that it was too late, that it could never be, that she understood what it was that she had lost.
Genuine sentiment rather than just nostalgia, always a bit of a cheap emotion
Continually amazed at just how many skills and crafts could go into making a lovely home—the patchwork quilts you could sew, the curtains you could ruffle, the cucumbers you could pickle, the rhubarb...
You can step in the same river but the water will always be new.
Vinny rarely leaves the house so when she does it's an occasion of some importance to her. She spends a lot of time looking forward to a glimpse of the outside world and then, when she returns, even m...
There was something to be said for dying before you ended up in incontinence pads, watching an endless loop of reruns of Friends.
