“Her face. And she smiling. For a moment, just that moment, you would have thought it was May morning.” — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
Your thin white face, chérie; he said, as if he saw it for the first time. Your thin white face, with its… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“It is possible to be a great novelist - that is, to render a veracious account of your times - and a… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
She said to the Daisy girl with her big brown eyes: 'I will not have it plain. No. Fancy. It must be… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
I should have liked to have had him beside me in a glass coffin, so that I could watch him all the… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
The end of all stories, even if the writer forebears to mention it, is death, which is where time stops short. Sheherezade… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“Memory is the grid of meaning we impose on the random and bewildering flux of the world. Memory is the line we… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“Like the wild beasts, she lives without a future. She inhabits only the present tense, a fugue of the continuous, a world… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
To pin your hopes upon the future is to consign those hopes to a hypothesis, which is to say, a nothingness. Here… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“Curiosity is the most fleeting of pleasures; the moment is satisfied, it ceases to exist and it always proves very, very expensive.” — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
There was a house we all had in common and it was called the past, even though we'd lived in different rooms. — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
The only time I ever iron the sheets or make meringues is when there is an ... urgent deadline in the offing. — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“Like the culture that created me, I am receding into the past at a rate of knots. Soon I'll need a whole… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
...in their millenial and long-lived patience they knew quite well how, in a hundred years, or a thousand years' time, or else,… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“On her eighteenth birthday, my mother had disposed of a man-eating tiger that had ravaged the villages in the hills north of… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“Sometimes it was possible for me to believe he had practised an enchantment upon me, as foxes in this country may, for,… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“She sleeps. And now she wakes each day a little less. And, each day, takes less and less nourishment, as if grudging… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“If we have largely forgotten the physical discomforts of the itching, oppressive garments of the past and the corrosive effects of perpetual… — Angela Carter Copy Share Image
“At this time, the cusp of the modern age, the hinge of the nineteenth century, had a plebiscite been taken amongst all… — 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
