No book that is written for an external purpose is going to be a passionately felt book for the writer or the reader. I don't see the point in doing that. — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share Image
“These are works of history about your century, the twentieth. A fine century-I look forward to the rest of it.” — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
“Then he said a strange thing, but to himself. 'They lived, didn't they?' And I said yes, that when one reads old letters one… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
I was filled with angst in college, that I struggled with the question of my future, the meaning of my life - spoiled sheltered… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
We Gypsies know that where Jews are killed, Gypsies are always murthered too. And then a lot of other people, usually. — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
I love to cook and I've cooked a lot of Bulgarian food over the years. — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
If there is any good in life, in history, in my own past, I invoke it now. I invoke it with all the passion… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
What comes to your mind when you think of the word Transylvania, if you ponder it at all? What comes to my mind are… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
Bulgarians eat tarator every single day in summer. They think of it as salad although we'd call it a soup. You can make it… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
“I preferred solitude anyway; it was the medium in which I had been raised, in which I swam comfortably.” — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
The thing that most haunted me that day, however...was the fact that these things had - apparently - actually occurred...For all his attention to… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
“Then draw everything. Do a hundred drawings a day,' he said fiercely. 'And remember that it's a hellish life.” — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
“Doesn't every love express itself this way, with the seeds of both its flowering and its ruin in the very first words, the first… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
He brought his great hand to rest on an early edition of Bram Stoker's novel and smiled, but said nothing. Then he moved quietly… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
