“Charles loved her voice. It was so soft and blurred, like pastels. It made his neck tingle just to listen to her. It gave him the same delicious feeling he had as he hovered on the brink of sleep and… — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
“I have traveled widely. I have seen this country in its infancy. I tell you what it will become. The public squares will be… — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
At the very end of a book I can manage to work for longer stretches, but mostly, making stuff up for three hours, that's… — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
Being famous as a writer is like being famous in a village. It's not really any very heady fame. — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
“Remember, this is the country of the duck-billed platypus. When you are cut off from the rest of the world, things are bound to… — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
If you ever read one of my books I hope you'll think it looks so easy. In fact, I wrote those chapters 20 times… — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
I had known loneliness before, and emptiness upon the moor, but I had never been a NOTHING, a nothing floating on a nothing, known… — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
I did not know that history is like a blood stain that keeps on showing on the wall no matter how many new owners… — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
I think that thing about the destruction of the world is there all the time, it's there every day when we look out the… — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
“He were still smiling but his voice were hard as a spoon rattling in a metal cup.” — Peter Carey Copy Share Image
