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...and so many orchards circled the village that on some crisp October afternoons the whole wold smelled like pie.

Alice Hoffman

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Alice Hoffman
Age: 72
Born: 1952
Born: March 16
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
New York City
New York
Like
Smelled
Orchard
Pie
Wold
October
Circled
Afternoon
Orchards
Village
Afternoons
Whole
Crisp
Many
Crisps

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When I write for teens, I feel I can cut through everything and get to the bare bones. I can get straight into the emotional world of the character.
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Young people believe that regret is something you will never feel if you simply do as you please, but sometimes it is a matter of degree.
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It was a great escape for me and it was a way to take a break from what was going on in my own world, to go into another world.
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What I like about fairy tales is the language and the matter-of-fact way of introducing magic, where it's accepted that a fox could talk or a gate could just appear in a wall. I think fairy tales are so psychological.
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Love ambushed you, it lay in wait, dormant for days or years. It was the red thread, the peach stone, the kiss, the forgiveness. It came after you, it escaped you, it was invisible, it was everything.
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Pride is a funny thing it can make what is truly worthless appear to be a treasure.
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I think growing up is difficult and it's a process that I'm always interested in, with kids and adults, they are often on two different universes.
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What people read revealed so much about them that she considered our card catalog a treasure house of privileged secrets each card contained the map of an individual’s soul.
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I thought of the bowl of water my mother taught me to look into. It was true, everything a person ever needed to know was right there in a single bowl small enough to fit in the palm of one hand.
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She liked to disappear, even when she was in the same room as other people. It was a talent, as it was a curse.
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This kind of knowing you can never tell to anyone. If you want us to survive, you cannot trust a soul'... 'Not for any reason on this earth. You can never tell.
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In a world of sorrow, love was an act of will. All you needed were the right ingredients.
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