Jim Crace

“On nights like this, when there is anxiety about, there is a glut of lovemaking. Then the moon is our dance master.…

— Jim Crace

Retiring from writing is not to retire from life, but retiring from writing is to avoid the inevitable bitterness which a writing…

— Jim Crace

“There's not a season set aside for pondering and reveries. It will not les us hesitate or rest; it does not wish…

— Jim Crace

“I am excused, I think, for wondering if I am the only one alive this afternoon with no other living soul who…

— Jim Crace

Try pitching a story of happiness to your editors and their toes are going to curl up.

— Jim Crace

“Sometimes in matters of the heart words are not required. Are ill advised, in fact.”

— Jim Crace

To ask a novelist to talk about his novels is like asking somebody to cook about their dancing.

— Jim Crace

“I think I'd like her to turn round. I want to see her face a second time. That first time she was…

— Jim Crace

“And it seems I ought to scatter too. Perhaps at once. It's always better to turn your back on the gale than…

— Jim Crace

“Any hawk looking down on the orchard's cloistered square, hoping for the titbit of a beetle or a mouse, would see a…

— Jim Crace

There is no remedy for death--or birth--except to hug the spaces in between. Live loud. Live wide. Live tall.

— Jim Crace

Secrets are like pregnancies hereabouts. You can hide them for a while but then they will start screaming.

— Jim Crace

I was captivated by Sherrie Flick's meticulous and intelligent study of Margaret and Vivette, and the men they share. Reconsidering Happiness is…

— Jim Crace

“The mood has changed. It's heavier. We were liquid; now we're stones.”

— Jim Crace

There's solace in the thought that I will never finish missing her.

— Jim Crace

“The dead leaves fly. They're cropped and gathered to the rich barn of the earth.”

— Jim Crace

These are the stories that we tell ourselves and only ourselves, and they are better left unshared.

— Jim Crace

My father had osteomyelitis-his left arm was withered between his elbow and his shoulder ... . But the amputation of a Stone…

— Jim Crace

...crushed between the fears of going forward and the dread of going back.

— Jim Crace