Endless longing; a face you'd known since childhood, since birth almost; a body that moved as though it were your own. These were things you never spoke of, things you never hoped for; things you could never admit to. Things… — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
But talent—if you don't encourage it, if you don't train it, it dies. It might run wild for a little while, but it will… — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
“I nodded, unsure if Ted sounded admiring or angry. 'I waded in but I couldn't find him. I mean, is it possible - the water wasn't deep enough for him to drown. It doesn't make any sense.' 'My band made four brilliant albums and never had a single goddamn hit. We were supposed to be the American Rolling Stones, and… — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share
I never think about genre when I work. I've written fantasy, science fiction, supernatural fiction, and am now working on a suspense novel. Genres… — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
There is a love of wood, as of other things that do not answer to our touch. — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
Endless longing; a face you'd known since childhood, since birth almost; a body that moved as though it were your own. These were things… — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
“[Poetry] was a form of incantation, a means of welding the world inside his head to the one that surrounded him, words the fiery… — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
Real myths are often strange and startlingly unfamiliar, and don't always give up their meanings easily; you have to tease them out, and for… — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
I wanted to have very strong female characters. I just thought it was always the way the world should be. — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
“Her earliest memory was of wings. Luminous red and blue, yellow and green and orange; a black so rich it appeared liquid, edible. They… — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
It sounds creepy, but I always liked the idea of disappearing then becoming something new. That of course was before I disappeared. — Elizabeth Hand Copy Share Image
![“[Poetry] was a form of incantation, a means of welding the world inside his head to the one that surrounded him, words the fiery chain that bound it all together.” quote by Elizabeth Hand](https://sms4smile.com/quotes/img-quotes/266/elizabeth-hand-29627_art_poetry-was-a-form-of-incantation-a-means_826614.jpg)
