There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
My mother and I were like two continents moving slowly but inexorably apart; my father, the bridge builder, constantly extending the fragile edifice he had constructed to connect us. — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“They are more real than the books on the shelves, books that are sketched with the barest hint of a line here and there,… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
What better way to get to know someone than through her choice and treatment of books? — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“I have always been a reader; I have read at every stage of my life, and there has never been a time when reading… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“Yesterday or the day before, while I had been going about my business, quietly and in private, some unknown person—some stranger—had gone to the… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“But perhaps the answer is to stop writing altogether, for when I do write, even now as I write this very sentence, this very… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
Our clients' faces, with the customary outward paleness and inner glow of the book lover. — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“He felt something move in his chest, as though an organ had been removed and something unfamiliar left in its place. A sentiment he… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
