We do not go to bed in single pairs; even if we choose not to refer to them, we still drag there… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
Spindly branches of buttercups were secreted among gleaming stems still moist at the roots from last night's rain that had washedand refreshed… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
With that, the poignant charm vanished. Inside the fifth machine, all was rampant malignity. Deformed flowers thrust monstrous horned tusks and trumpets… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
He is the intermediary between us, his audience, the living, and they, the dolls, the undead, who cannot live at all and… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
Midnight, and the clock strikes. It is Christmas Day, the werewolves birthday, the door of the solstice still wide enough open to… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
Though I still turn up my coat-collar in a lonely way and am always looking at myself in mirrors, they’re only habits… — 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
