“The dead leaves fly. They're cropped and gathered to the rich barn of the earth.” — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
“On nights like this, when there is anxiety about, there is a glut of lovemaking. Then the moon is our dance master. He has… — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
Retiring from writing is not to retire from life, but retiring from writing is to avoid the inevitable bitterness which a writing career is… — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
“There's not a season set aside for pondering and reveries. It will not les us hesitate or rest; it does not wish us to… — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
“I am excused, I think, for wondering if I am the only one alive this afternoon with no other living soul who wants to… — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
Try pitching a story of happiness to your editors and their toes are going to curl up. — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
“Sometimes in matters of the heart words are not required. Are ill advised, in fact.” — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
To ask a novelist to talk about his novels is like asking somebody to cook about their dancing. — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
“I think I'd like her to turn round. I want to see her face a second time. That first time she was hardly visible.… — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
“And it seems I ought to scatter too. Perhaps at once. It's always better to turn your back on the gale than press your… — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
“Any hawk looking down on the orchard's cloistered square, hoping for the titbit of a beetle or a mouse, would see a patterned canopy… — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
There is no remedy for death--or birth--except to hug the spaces in between. Live loud. Live wide. Live tall. — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
Secrets are like pregnancies hereabouts. You can hide them for a while but then they will start screaming. — Jim Crace Copy Share Image
