Quotes About Author

But we own nothing they want, so we don't qualify as terrorists.

Aunt Lydia, you are too good," he will beam. Too good to be true, I will think. Too good for this earth. Good, be thou my evil.

left lipstick imprints the shape of grateful, rubbery sighs...

As for you, she'd say to me, you're just a backlash. Flash in the pan. History will absolve me. But

Rachel; and he said, Am I in God's stead, who hath withheld from thee the fruit of the womb?   And she said, Behold my maid Bilhah

She is dying because she said. She is dying for the sake of the word. It is her body, silent and fingerless, writing this poem.

hippo. Like something that basks, anyway. Even her knitting is going better than

The protector was her, the greater power was her, the Universe that took an interest was her as well; always her. "I love you," I said.

still at the table, engaged no doubt in some kind of arcane flirtation, she for practise, he in pathetic earnest. Toby

And it's not the real Elvis you need to resemble, it's the imitation Elvises. Not hard to look like one of them.

I whispered into her ear, or meant to whisper – Bless you. Be careful. Anyone intending to meddle with words needs such blessing, such warning.

I'd been reading modern French novels, and William Faulkner as well. I knew what love was supposed to be: obsession, with undertones of nausea.

I try not to think too much. Like other things now, thought must be rationed. There's a lot that doesn't bear thinking about. Thinking can hurt your chances, and I intend to last.

There would be more genuine rejoicing at the discovery of a complete new novel by Jane Austen than any other literary discovery, short of a new major play by Shakespeare.

cocked his head. "And who is this?" As if he did not know. "Guess," said Tigellinus. He scrutinized me. "Can it be—is it Apollo himself, come to select a new team of horses to

cassis, which she took to her bedroom to drink in private

sternly, and I was stricken myself to realize that Lev Schuster's Yiddish phrases continued to infect my vocabulary.

whatever they were about. The Colonel said, 'Has her suitcase been found?' 'Not much hope of that.

retreat to Dunkirk. I didn't hear for nearly

She saw in his eyes defeat of her wild dreams, her mad desires.

Mistress! What would I get out of that except a passel of brats? -Scarlett O'Hara

My! How the grapes are sour today! -Rhett Butler

and the most insane gossip tortured the town

As though she thought I was to blame for what happened," Scarlett thought indignantly.