M. John Harrison

Happiness and beauty are the worst things you can have in a life, because you never forget them. They go on and…

— M. John Harrison

“Behind all this bad behaviour was an insecurity magnificent in scope, metaphysical in nature. Space was big, and the boys from Earth…

— M. John Harrison

“Horse-chestnut flowers bobbed like white wax candles above the deserted pavements. An oblique light struck into the street - so that its…

— M. John Harrison

SF is an opportunity to have an intense relationship with your own imagination. It's a kind of drive-by poetry, trashy and addictive;…

— M. John Harrison

I've never been to the Himalayas, and I'm not really interested in them. I'm more interested in a dirty old quarry in…

— M. John Harrison

“He was lonely; I wanted to help, of course, but not from so intimate a distance; and lately our meetings had become…

— M. John Harrison

Dreamworlds can maintain themselves only as glimpses. Once the writer transports the reader across the threshold, nothing that was promised can be…

— M. John Harrison

“Outside, a dog sprawls among the empty tables, its body rocking with the evening heat. Someone has given it a hamburger which…

— M. John Harrison

“Uncouth, clannish, lumbering about the confines of Space and Time with a puzzled expression on his face and a handful of things…

— M. John Harrison

“...in the morning -- 'When the world looks promising again despite what we know about it' -- ...”

— M. John Harrison

“The right fist rested on the pommel of his plain long sword, which, contrary to the fashion of the time, had no…

— M. John Harrison

“Instead, as the crystal splinters entered Hornwrack's brain, he experienced two curious dreams of the Low City, coming so quickly one after…

— M. John Harrison

“The worst thing in the world is to be inside yourself, you don't even want to be rescued.”

— M. John Harrison

What is literature, and why do I try to write about it? I don’t know. Likewise, I don’t know why I go…

— M. John Harrison

At Birkin Grif's left, his seat insecure on a scruffy packhorse, Theomeris Glyn, his only armour a steel-stressed leather cap, grumbled at…

— M. John Harrison

“When I was little, she thought, I wanted nothing except to stop travelling. I wanted time for each new thing, each new…

— M. John Harrison