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The invisible is only another unexplored country, a brave new world.
Angela Carter
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Angela Carter
Age: 51 †
Born: 1940
Born: May 7
Died: 1992
Died: February 16
Author
Journalist
Linguist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Translator
Writer
Eastbourne
Sussex
Angela Olive Stalker Carter
Angela Olive Carter
Angela Olive Stalker
Angela Olive Pearce
Unexplored
Invisible
Brave
Another
Country
World
More quotes by Angela Carter
The wolf is carnivore incarnate and he's as cunning as he is ferocious once he's had a taste of flesh then nothing else will do.
Angela Carter
Hope for the best, expect the worst.
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As for my father, few souls are less troubled. He can be simply pleased with us, pleased that we exist, and, from the vantage point of his wondrously serene old age, he contemplates our lives almost as if they were books he can dip into whenever he wants. His back pages, perhaps.
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There are lots of things that you can brush under the carpet about yourself until you're faced with somebody whose needs won't be put off.
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There was a house we all had in common and it was called the past, even though we'd lived in different rooms.
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They were connoisseurs of boredom. They savoured the various bouquets of the subtly differentiated boredoms which rose from the long, wasted hours at the dead end of night.
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And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairs. My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur.
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The notion of a universality of human experience is a confidence trick and the notion of a universality of female experience is a clever confidence trick.
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Your green eye is a reducing chamber. If I look into it long enough, I wil become as small as my own reflection, I will diminish to a point and vanish. I will be drawn down into that black whirlpool and be consumed by you. I shall become so small you can keep me in one of your osier cages and mock my loss of liberty.
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He is, I think, already pondering a magisterial project: that of buggering the English language, the ultimate revenge of the colonialised.
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A young girl would go into the wood as trustingly as Red Riding Hood to her granny's house but this light admits no ambiguities and, here, she will be trapped in her own illusion because everything in the woods is exactly as it seems.
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I had the brief notion that his heart, pressed flat as a flower, crimson and thin as tissue paper, lay in this file. It was a very thin one.
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Your thin white face, chérie he said, as if he saw it for the first time. Your thin white face, with its promise of debauchery only a connoisseur could detect.
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A fairy tale is the kind of story in which one king goes to another king to borrow a cup of sugar
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I know that whenever a group of women are gathered together, the grandmother always makes a phantom appearance, hovering above them.
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I will tell you what Jeanne was like. She was like a piano in a country where everyone has had their hands cut off.
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It is far easier for a woman to lead a blameless life than it is for a man all she has to do is to avoid sexual intercourse like the plague.
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A day without an argument is like an egg without salt.
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A broken heart is never a tragedy. Only untimely death is a tragedy.
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Though I still turn up my coat-collar in a lonely way and am always looking at myself in mirrors, they’re only habits and give no clue at all to my character, whatever that is. The most difficult performance in the world is acting naturally isn’t it? Everything else is artful.
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