“But perhaps the answer is to stop writing altogether, for when I do write, even now as I write this very sentence,… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
Every so often I take out a volume and read a page or two. After all, reading is looking after in a… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
You have to relax, write what you write. It sounds easy but it's really, really hard. One of the things it took… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
Readers are fools. They believe all writing is autobiographical. And so it is, but not in the way they think. The writer's… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“I have closed my study door on the world and shut myself away with people of my imagination. For nearly sixty years… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk,… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
Do they sense it, these dead writers, when their books are read? Does a pinprick of light appear in their darkness? Is… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“When you read a manuscript that has been damaged by water, fire, light or just the passing of the years, your eye… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“The storyteller gave me a sideways look. “Miss Lea, it doesn’t do to get attached to these secondary characters. It’s not their… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“For nearly sixty years I have eavesdropped with impunity on the lives of people who do not exist.” — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“My story - my own personal story - ended before my writing began. Storytelling has only ever been a way of filling… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“Readers," continued Miss Winter, "are fools. They believe all writing is autobiographical. And so it is, but not in the way they… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
I am always happy up a ladder with a paintbrush in my hand. And I wish I had more time to spend… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
My liking for Scandinavian crime fiction led me into exploring literary writers from the same countries. — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“Art, its completeness, its formedness, its finishedness, had no power to console. Words, on the other hand, were a lifeline.” — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“My study throngs with characters waiting to be written. Imaginary people, anxious for a life, who tug at my sleeve, crying, 'Me… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“All my life and all my experience, the events that have befallen me, the people I have known, all my memories, dreams,… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“I have eavesdropped with impunity on the lives of people who do not exist. I have peeped shamelessly into hearts and bathroom… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
There was no single moment when I thought, Aha! What a great idea! Rather there was a slow and gradual accumulation of… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“The storyteller gave me a sideways look. "Miss Lea, it doesn't do to get attached to these secondary characters. It's not their… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“My job is not to sell the books - my father does that - but to look after them. Every so often… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“They are more real than the books on the shelves, books that are sketched with the barest hint of a line here and there,… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
What better way to get to know someone than through her choice and treatment of books? — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“I have always been a reader; I have read at every stage of my life, and there has never been a time when reading… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“Yesterday or the day before, while I had been going about my business, quietly and in private, some unknown person—some stranger—had gone to the… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“But perhaps the answer is to stop writing altogether, for when I do write, even now as I write this very sentence, this very… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
Our clients' faces, with the customary outward paleness and inner glow of the book lover. — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
“He felt something move in his chest, as though an organ had been removed and something unfamiliar left in its place. A sentiment he… — Diane Setterfield Copy Share Image
