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The child's laughter is pure until he first laughs at a clown.
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
Firsts
First
Children
Laughs
Clown
Laughter
Pure
Laughing
Child
More quotes by Angela Carter
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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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 see her as a series of marvellous shapes formed at random in the kaleidoscope of desire.
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My mother learned that she was carrying me at about the same time the Second World War was declared with the family talent for magic realism, she once told me she had been to the doctor's on the very day.
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I think I want to be in love with you but I don't know how.
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The end of all stories, even if the writer forebears to mention it, is death, which is where time stops short. Sheherezade knew this, which is why she kept on spinning another story out of the bowels of the last one, never coming to a point where she could say: This is the end. Because it would have been.
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It's every woman's tragedy, that, after a certain age, she looks like a female impersonator. Mind you, we've known some lovely female impersonators, in our time.
Angela Carter
Midnight, and the clock strikes. It is Christmas Day, the werewolves birthday, the door of the solstice still wide enough open to let them all slink through.
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He was a lovely man in many ways. But he kept on insisting on forgiving me when there was nothing to forgive.
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For hours, for days, for years, she had wandered endlessly within herself but never met anybody, nobody.
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This lack of imagination gives his heroism to the hero.
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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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Hope for the best, expect the worst.
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The only time I ever iron the sheets or make meringues is when there is an ... urgent deadline in the offing.
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Not for Moorcock the painful, infrequent excretion of dry little novels like so many rabbit pellets his is the grand, messy fluxitself, in all its heroic vulgarity, its unquenchable optimism, its enthusiasm for the inexhaustible variousness of things.
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Nostalgia, the vice of the aged. We watch so many old movies our memories come in monochrome.
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I am entirely alone. I and my shadow fill the universe.
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Pornographers are the enemies of women only because our contemporary ideology of pornography does not encompass the possibility of change, as if we were the slaves of history and not its makers. . . . Pornography is a satire on human pretensions.
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What would the daughters of the rich do with themselves if the poor ceased to exist?
Angela Carter
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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