That is the mystery about writing: it comes out of afflictions, out of the gouged times, when the heart is cut open. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
never forget this moment, the hum of the bee, the saffron threads of the flower, the drawn blinds, nature's assiduousness and human… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“It is impossible to capture the essence of love in writing, only its symptoms remain, the erotic absorption, the huge disparity between… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
I am obsessive, also I am industrious. Besides, the time when you are most alive and most aware is in childhood and… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
The other me, who did not mean to drown herself, went under the sea and remained there for a long time. Eventually… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
In a way Winter is the real Spring - the time when the inner things happen, the resurgence of nature. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
fear is a dreadful drawback because it stops us living in the moment. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
It was the first time that I came face to face with madness and feared it and was fascinated by it. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“My mother is dead, my mother is dead,” she kept saying it in her numbed state, because it had not sunk in.… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
There are times when the thing we are seeing changes before our very eyes, and if it is a landscape we praise… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“nerves and the toll of the shingles, telling her that the shingles made people depressed, that and other bull, how shingles took… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
... a country encapsulates our childhood and those lanes, byres, fields, flowers, insects, suns, moons and stars are forever reoccurring. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
I crossed the room, and what you did was to feel my hair over and over again and in different ways, touch it, with… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
Ordinary life bypassed me, but I also bypassed it. It couldn't have been any other way.Conventional life and conventional people are not for me. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
History is said to be written by the victors. Fiction, by contrast, is largely the work of injured bystanders. — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“A healer! The beauty of the word a balm. In a mounting astonishment she hears how this man heals with his own blood, pricks… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
“If I could feel like myself I’d thank God but I don’t feel and never will.” — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
...people liking you or not liking you is an accident and is to do with them and not you. That goes for love too,… — Edna O'Brien Copy Share Image
