Nineteenth-century English literature I know; 19th-century sewage systems, not so much. — Glen Duncan Copy Share
“For the longest time the romantic explanation for low rates of female infection endured: Possession of a womb, it was supposed, conferred a gentleness… — Glen Duncan Copy Share
“The question 'What was there before creation?' is meaningless. Time is a property of creation, therefore before creation there was no before creation.” — Glen Duncan Copy Share
“The beauty spot by her lip was one of a dozen or so scattered over her body. My new constellations.” — Glen Duncan Copy Share
Fairy tales read before bed tend to make me dream. They're all quite violent stories, as are my dreams. — Glen Duncan Copy Share
I don’t know where the universe came from or what happens to creatures when they die. I don’t know if the whole thing’s an… — Glen Duncan Copy Share
In a fit of pique, I said to my agent, 'I'm going to write something you can sell.' The idea was to write a… — Glen Duncan Copy Share
“The Mortals are free, Lucifer. What they've done they've done from within themselves. - Raphael” — Glen Duncan Copy Share
One day the ordinariness will be terminally punctuated by the extraordinary full stop of death. — Glen Duncan Copy Share
When I see gurgling retarded children (that's God's doing, by the way, not mine) happily styling their hair with their own stinking mards, I… — Glen Duncan Copy Share
“She understood the genre constraints, the decencies we were supposed to be observing. The morally cosy vision allows the embrace of monstrosity only as… — Glen Duncan Copy Share
“Show us the world's not the way we thought it was and part of us rejoices.” — Glen Duncan Copy Share
“It’s just what you’re stuck with, the lousy furniture you can’t change. The educated me knows hell’s nothing, a fiction I happened to inherit.… — Glen Duncan Copy Share
“Afterwards, sitting on my bunk, I cried. I read somewhere that when you’re a kid it’s people’s cruelty that makes you cry, then when… — Glen Duncan Copy Share
“The absurdity of it, she thought, this quest for the love of a man who was her equal. She loathed herself for it. She… — Glen Duncan Copy Share
