“He was my husband, my apartment mate, my soul mate, the father of the little plant in my confused soil, the lover who had made me adore his body without inhibition after my years of relative solitude, the person for… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share Image
“These are works of history about your century, the twentieth. A fine century-I look forward to the rest of it.” — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
“Then he said a strange thing, but to himself. 'They lived, didn't they?' And I said yes, that when one reads old letters one… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
I was filled with angst in college, that I struggled with the question of my future, the meaning of my life - spoiled sheltered… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
We Gypsies know that where Jews are killed, Gypsies are always murthered too. And then a lot of other people, usually. — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
I love to cook and I've cooked a lot of Bulgarian food over the years. — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
If there is any good in life, in history, in my own past, I invoke it now. I invoke it with all the passion… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
What comes to your mind when you think of the word Transylvania, if you ponder it at all? What comes to my mind are… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
Bulgarians eat tarator every single day in summer. They think of it as salad although we'd call it a soup. You can make it… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
“I preferred solitude anyway; it was the medium in which I had been raised, in which I swam comfortably.” — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
The thing that most haunted me that day, however...was the fact that these things had - apparently - actually occurred...For all his attention to… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
“Then draw everything. Do a hundred drawings a day,' he said fiercely. 'And remember that it's a hellish life.” — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
“Doesn't every love express itself this way, with the seeds of both its flowering and its ruin in the very first words, the first… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
He brought his great hand to rest on an early edition of Bram Stoker's novel and smiled, but said nothing. Then he moved quietly… — Elizabeth Kostova Copy Share
