I held out my book. It was precious to me, as were all the things I'd written; even where I despised their inadequacy there was not one I would disown. Each tore its way from my entrails. Each had shortened… — Tanith Lee Copy Share Image
The humble were the elect of God. Did not the priests teach so, in their gemmed, kingly robes, from their towering pulpits? — Tanith Lee Copy Share Image
“Having told of so much beauty, how is it possible to tell of her? There are no words left on the earth in any… — Tanith Lee Copy Share Image
As a child, my mother told me lots of fairy stories, many her own invention. She, too, tended to reverse the norm. — Tanith Lee Copy Share Image
“Often misunderstood, Dionysus is far more than a wine deity. He is the Breaker of Chains, who rescues not only the flesh but the… — Tanith Lee Copy Share Image
In the usual way I submitted manuscripts to publishers. This was not so much a feeling that I should be published as a wish… — Tanith Lee Copy Share Image
If they had said my writing wasn't good enough, fair enough, that's an opinion. But to say it's too complex is to insult the… — Tanith Lee Copy Share Image
“Louisa beheld the grounds and house with the calm pleasure of one who has seen nothing, been nowhere, expects everything, and has little imagination.” — Tanith Lee Copy Share Image
“All the Scarabae—all but one—were crowded in the garden. They watched her. Their grim old faces gave away nothing. Like elderly kiddies at a… — Tanith Lee Copy Share Image
