... He went under the stars, and the tender light of the moon, when it hung like an eyelash and the tree trunks shone like bones. He walked through wind and weather, and beneath sun-bleached skies. It seemed to Harold… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
“IT HAD NEVER been such a beautiful May. Every day the sky shone a peerless blue, untouched by cloud. Already, the gardens were crammed… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
After the two drinks, she felt warm inside, and slightly indistinct at the edges. — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
“He walked so surely it was as if all his life he had been waiting to get up from his chair.” — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
He must have driven this way countless times, and yet he had no memory of the scenery. He must have been so caught up… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
“He saw the reflection of her face in a compact mirror as she painted on her re lips. She did it with such care,… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
“I can't explain why I think I can get there, when all the odds are against me. But I do. Even when a big… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
“It wasn’t just 1) the artwork and sleeve notes on the album sleeve. It wasn’t 2) the possibility of a hidden track, or a… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
In writing about Harold and Maureen with their terrible unspoken secret, and all those people that Harold meets as he walks to save a… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
“He wished the man would honor the true meaning of words, instead of using them as ammunition.” — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
“We are at the centre of our own stories. And sometimes it is hard to believe that we are not at the centre of… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
I find that very appealing: the blurring of the lines between what's funny and what's tragic. And what's ordinary and what's not - the… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
Beginnings could happen more than once or in different ways. You could think you were starting something afresh, when actually what you were doing… — Rachel Joyce Copy Share Image
