Quotes from Susanna Clarke

Once again I took my Index and Journals to the Fifth Northern Hall and sat down opposite the Statue of the Gorilla. May his Strength and Resolution give me courage!

Don't disappear,' I tell her sternly. 'Do not disappear.' She makes a rueful, amused face. 'I won't,' she says. 'We can't keep rescuing each other,' I say. 'It's ridiculous.' She smiles. It is a smile with a little sadness in it. But she still wears the perfume – the first thing I ever knew of her – and it still makes me think of Sunlight and Happiness.

The Beams of the Declining Sun shone through the Windows of the Lower Halls, striking the Surface of the Waves and making ripples of golden Light flow across the Ceiling of the Staircase and over the Faces of the Statues.

Peut-être est-ce là ce à quoi ressemble la compagnie des autres. Peut-être même que des gens qu'on aime et admire profondément peuvent vous pousser à voir le monde sous un jour qu'on aime pas et qu'on n'admire pas non plus.

But to professional humility and a genuine admiration of the York society Mr. Robinson added a happy vanity that these monumental brains must now cease their pondering on esoteric matters for a time and listen to him.

The rooks made a fuss at my approach. Yes, yes. I am glad to see you too, I told them. Only I have things to do today and cannot stop for a long conversation.

Lord Byron ! Of course!" cried Dr Greysteel. "I forgot all about him! I must go and warn him to be discreet." "I think it's a little late for that, sir," said Frank.

Their behaviour tells me what they are thinking. Generally it runs along the lines of: Is this food? Is this? What about this? This might be food. I am almost certain that this is. Or occasionally: It is raining. I do not like it.

am the Beloved Child of the House,' I said.

I have to consider the needs of the Biscuit-Box Man – and the Folded-Up Child – and the People of the Alcove. They only have me to take care of them. They are in unfamiliar surroundings and may feel disconcerted. I have to return them to their appointed places.

Mystery of the people connected to Arne-Sayles who disappeared: Maurizio Giussani, Stanley Ovenden, Sylvia D'Agostino. (This is a strong pull for readers and therefore a definite pro. Unless I disappear myself, in which case, con.)

A wave of sadness and helplessness washed over me. I wanted to say that the People of the Alcove had not been murdered by Arne-Sayles (though I have no evidence to support that assertion and the probability is that at least one of them was). Mostly I wanted Raphael to come away from them so that I could stop thinking of them the way she thought of them – as murdered – and go back to thinking of them the way I always had before – as good, and noble, and peaceful.

I knew as I looked at it that there was something very strange here. But the strange thing was so strange, so entirely incomprehensible that I found it difficult to form coherent thoughts about it. I could see the strangeness with my eyes, but I could not think it with my mind.

Question: is it possible to knit socks from seaweed? Doubtful.)

And where were you?' he asks. 'While you were gone?' 'I was in a house with many rooms. The sea sweeps through the house. Sometimes it swept over me, but always I was saved.

What I'm trying to get at,' he says, 'is whether Dr Ketterley persuaded you to go anywhere. Whether he kept you anywhere against your will. Whether you were free to come and go.' 'Yes. I was free. I came and went. I did not remain in one place. I walked for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of kilometres.

Once, men and women were able to turn themselves into eagles and fly immense distances. They communed with rivers and mountains and received wisdom from them. They felt the turning of the stars inside their own minds. My contemporaries did not understand this. They were all enamoured with the idea of progress and believed that whatever was new must be superior to what was old. As if merit was a function of chronology!

This is what I call a Distributary World – it was created by ideas flowing out of another world. This world could not have existed unless that other world had existed first. Whether this world is still dependent on

This is what I call a Distributary World – it was created by ideas flowing out of another world. This world could not have existed unless that other world had existed first.

Batter-Sea is not a word,' I said at last. 'It has no referent. There is nothing in the World corresponding to that combination of sounds.

I estimate that in six months' time the bones will be white and clean. I will gather them up and take them to the empty niche in the third north-western hall. I will place Valentine Ketterley next to the biscuit-box man. In the middle I will place the long bones tied together with twine. On the right I will place the skull. On the left I will place a box containing all the small bones.

In the Air he was a miraculous being – a Heavenly Being – but on the Stones of the Pavement he was mortal and subject to the same embarrassments and clumsiness as other mortals.

Now came Dr Foxcastle, sailing magisterially around the corner like a fat, black ship.

Perhaps in some remote area of the labyrinth, statues of obsolete computers are coming into being as we speak!