“There is a vast melancholy in the canticles of the wolves, melancholy infinite as the forest, endless as these long nights of winter and yet that ghastly sadness, that mourning for their own, irremediable appetites, can never move the heart… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
He was a lovely man in many ways. But he kept on insisting on forgiving me when there was nothing to forgive. — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
I know that whenever a group of women are gathered together, the grandmother always makes a phantom appearance, hovering above them. — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“She herself is a haunted house. She does not possess herself; her ancestors sometimes come and peer out of the window of her eyes… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
Hollywood... was the place where the United States perpetrated itself as a universal dream and put the dream into mass production. — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
My paternal grandmother would not light a fire on the Sabbath and piled all Sunday's washing-up in a bucket, to be dealt with on… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“Mother goddesses are just as silly a notion as father gods. If a revival of the myths of these cults gives woman emotional satisfaction,… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
Out of the frying pan into the fire! What is marriage but prostitution to one man instead of many? No different! — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
In a secular age, an authentic miracle must purport to be a hoax, in order to gain credit in the world. — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
