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In my mind's eye Shakespeare is a huge, hot sea-beast, with fire in his veins and ice on his claws and inscrutable eyes, who looks like an inchoate hump under the encrustations of live barnacle-commentaries, limpets and trailing weeds.
A. S. Byatt
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A. S. Byatt
Age: 88
Born: 1936
Born: August 24
Literary Critic
Novelist
Poet
University Teacher
Writer
Sheffield
England
Dame Antonia Susan Duffy
Antonia Susan Drabble
Antonia Susan Duffy
Fire
Veins
Barnacles
Eyes
Shakespeare
Commentaries
Eye
Weed
Hump
Live
Ice
Trailing
Looks
Beast
Inscrutable
Mind
Hot
Weeds
Like
Sea
Claws
Huge
Commentary
Inchoate
More quotes by A. S. Byatt
You can understand a lot about yourself by working out which fairytale you use to present your world to yourself in.
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I am a creature of my pen. My pen is the best of me.
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Literary critics make natural detectives.
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I think the virtue I prize above all others is curiosity.
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I don't only write about English literature I also write about chaos theory and... ants. I can understand ants.
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I'd like to write the way Matisse paints.
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Coherence and closure are deep human desires that are presently unfashionable. But they are always both frightening and enchantingly desirable. Falling in love, characteristically, combs the appearances of the word, and of the particular lover's history, out of a random tangle and into a coherent plot.
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A surprising number of people - including many students of literature - will tell you they haven't really lived in a book since they were children.
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Pain hardens, and great pain hardens greatly, whatever the comforters say, and suffering does not ennoble, though it may occasionally lend a certain rigid dignity of manner to the suffering frame.
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You did not so much mind being -conventionally- betrayed, if you were not kept in the dark, which was humiliating, or defined only as a wife and dependent person, which was annihilating.
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I did a lot of my writing as though I was an academic, doing some piece of research as perfectly as possible.
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Novels arise out of the shortcomings of History.
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Vocabularies are crossing circles and loops. We are defined by the lines we choose to cross or to be confined by.
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It's because I'm a feminist that I can't stand women limiting other women's imaginations. It really makes me angry.
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Do I do as false prophets do and puff air into simulacra? Am I a Sorcerer--like Macbeth's witches--mixing truth and lies in incandescent shapes? Or am I a kind of very minor scribe of a prophetic Book--telling such truth as in me lies, with aid of such fiction as I acknowledge mine, as Prospero acknowledged Caliban.
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In our world of sleek flesh and collagen, botox and liposuction, what we most fear is the dissolution of the body-mind, the death of the brain.
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…my Solitude is my Treasure, the best thing I have.
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One does not remember the winners. One remains haunted by the losers.
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There is a certain aesthetic pleasure in trying to imagine the unimaginable and failing, if you are a reader.
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Human beings love stories because they safely show us beginnings, middles and ends.
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