Tips for aspiring writers: don't be afraid of writing rubbish. It's very easy to become hypnotised by an empty page or screen. It's tempting to abandon a half-finished work because you can't make it perfect. I hereby give you permission… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
“It is dangerous to lock oneself away and lose track of what is happening outside.” — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
“Clent, however, suppressed any sense of pity without the slightest difficulty. His brain was busy with the icy clockwork of calculation. If only this young woman’s fears were justified! Beamabeth Marlebourne would be unlikely to threaten anybody, locked away inside the Luck’s cell for the rest of her life. Such a fate had a tempting poetry to it too, given… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share
“I swam across the torrent of my madness, and pulled myself upon the shore of a new and better sanity.” — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
“Before her escort could react, she sprinted out from their little pool of lantern-light into the darkness, her feet pounding the soft, treacherous clods… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
“She was not undamaged, however, and she knew it. No food or drink had passed her lips, but she had drunk deep of the… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
“All her life, Neverfell had suffered the dull, embarrassed ache of the knowledge that she was always the maddest person in the room. Funnily… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
“Well, if you are to help me with my work, you had better get used to stories without endings. True stories seldom have endings.” — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
“And you may comfort yourself with the thought that you have been the caltrop under her satin shoe every step of the way. You misdirected the Romantic Facilitator she had hired, you turned up in her own house and reported her plans to her father and when she was on the brink of snatching the ransom you careered in from… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share
“The little pedlar, it seemed, fancied that he had the tools to fix the wheel. The footmen were glad to hear this, and agreed… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share Image
“For a second, she could almost see Caverna as the Kleptomancer did, a murky, monstrous beauty, smiling her fine-fanged smile as she prepared to stretch and grow, shaking out her tunnel-tresses as they became longer and longer. Perhaps Caverna had already known that such an opportunity was open to her. Neverfell imagined her discarding the Grand Steward like a worn-out… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you’re sane? That you’ve always been sane? That perhaps you’re the sanest person in the city?" "I hope not," whispered Neverfell. "Because, if I’m sane, then there’s something wrong with Caverna, something horrible and sick, and nobody else has noticed. If I’m sane, then we shouldn’t be sitting around talking – we… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share
“Thank you," she whispered. "I promise I will not interfere in Court business again." "Oh yes, you will." Zouelle looked up to see her uncle regarding her with a sad little smile. "You decided that you were ready to start meddling in the great game. I really hope you were right, Zouelle, because once you start playing it you can… — Frances Hardinge Copy Share
