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Stars on our door, stars in our eyes, stars exploding in the bits of our brains where the common sense should have been
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
Eyes
Stars
Common
Exploding
Eye
Brains
Sense
Door
Doors
Bits
Brain
More quotes by Angela Carter
Anticipation is the greater part of pleasure.
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Among the monsters, I am well hidden who looks for a leaf in a forest?
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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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Cities have sexes: London is a man, Paris a woman, and New York a well-adjusted transsexual.
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Sade has a curious ability to render every aspect of sexuality suspect, so that we see how the chaste kiss of the sentimental lover differs only in degree from the vampirish love-bite that draws blood, we understand that a disinterested caress is only quantitatively different from a disinterested flogging.
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All artists, they say, are a little mad. This madness is, to a certain extent, a self-created myth designed to keep the generality away from the phenomenally close-knit creative community. Yet, in the world of the artists, the consciously eccentric are always respectful and admiring if those who have the courage to be genuinely a little mad.
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Pornography is a satire on human pretensions.
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She stood lost in eternity wearing a crazy dress, watching the immense sky.
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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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Reciprocity of sensation is not possible because to share is to be robbed.
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The clown may be the source of mirth, but - who shall make the clown laugh?
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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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If the Barbarians are destroyed, who will we then be able to blame for the bad things?
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ordered me a sky from a florist
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For most of human history, 'literature,' both fiction and poetry, has been narrated, not written — heard, not read. So fairy tales, folk tales, stories from the oral tradition, are all of them the most vital connection we have with the imaginations of the ordinary men and women whose labor created our world.
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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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A book is simply the container of an idea-like a bottle what is inside the book is what matters.
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The child's laughter is pure until he first laughs at a clown.
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We must all make do with the rags of love we find flapping on the scarecrow of humanity.
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To pin your hopes upon the future is to consign those hopes to a hypothesis, which is to say, a nothingness. Here and now is what we must contend with.
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