Weep all the artful tears you like. You shall never make my hard heart the softer. — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
Your twisting is done--you have the last thread of my heart. I wonder: when the thread grows slack, will you feel it? — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
And perhaps there is a limit to the grieving that the human heart can do. As when one adds salt to a… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
I felt that thread that had come between us, tugging, tugging at my heart - so hard, it hurt me. A hundred… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
It was heavy, and I staggered when I lifted it; but it was strangely satifying to have a real burden upon my… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
“Your heart—as you call it—and hers are alike, after all: they are like mine, like everyone's. They resemble nothing so much as… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
With every step I took away from her, the movement at my heart and between my legs grew more defined: I felt… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
“Now, from the crown of my head to the curve of my toe-nails, there was an unguent for every part of me - oil… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
“Miss Craven held up a pair she thought would fit me—monstrous great things they were, of course, and I thought she smiled as she… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
I suppose I really seemed mad, then; but it was only through the awfulness of having said nothing but the truth, and being thought… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
My nan was a nursery maid. Most people weren't in big houses. They were maids of all work. — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
Being in love, you know... it's not like having a canary, in a cage. When you lose one sweetheart, you can't just go out… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
For was that all, she thought bleakly, that love ever was? Something that saved one from loneliness? A sort of insurance policy against not… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
“And yet, I seemed to feel my eyes bound, too, with bands of silk. And at my throat there was a velvet collar.” — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
“No-one speaks. No-one moves (…). We glide, softly, in silence, into our dark and separate hells” — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
“She loved these walks through London. She seemed, as she made them, to become porous, to soak in detail after detail; or else, like… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
“Oh, for shame! Nancy, have you never seen Florrie's face in a chrysanthemum, or a rose?' 'Never.' I said. 'Though there was a flounder… — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
“My locket hangs in my closet beside the glass, the only shining thing among so many shadows.” — Sarah Waters Copy Share Image
