I weaned myself on the nostalgia equivalent of methadone (less addictive, less obvious, less likely to make you crazy): missing what I had never had. — Tana French Copy Share Image
“...the solitude was intoxicating. On my first night there I lay on my back on the sticky carpet for hours, in the murky orange… — Tana French Copy Share Image
“I remember this country back when I was growing up. We went to church, we ate family suppers around the table, and it would… — Tana French Copy Share Image
“That house shimmered in my mind like some fairy fort that appeared for one day in a lifetime, tantalizing and charged, with those four… — Tana French Copy Share Image
“It would take a while to occur to him that my rules had sweet fuck-all in common with his.” — Tana French Copy Share Image
I love writing. I feel ridiculously lucky that this is what I get to do all day. — Tana French Copy Share Image
“…out here in the real world, my man, you would be amazed how seldom murder has to break into people’s lives. Ninety-nine times out… — Tana French Copy Share Image
“Before I could get my bearings he was on top of me and shoving my face down into the dirt. He was bigger and… — Tana French Copy Share Image
We think of mortality so little these days... I thought of the stern Victorian determination to keep death in mind, the uncompromising tombstones. Remember,… — Tana French Copy Share Image
I read a lot. I always have, but in those two years I gorged myself on books with a voluptuous, almost erotic gluttony. I… — Tana French Copy Share Image
“For ten years Dublin’s been changing faster than our minds can handle. The economic boom has given us too many people with helicopters and… — Tana French Copy Share Image
When we can't see a pattern, we fit pieces together until one takes shape, because we have to. — Tana French Copy Share Image
“Stephen shrugged. “Yeah. Well. I said I would.” “Ah. Are we having issues?” “This feels sleazy.” “I promise I’ll respect you in the morning.” — Tana French Copy Share Image
