Quote

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.

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
Hair
Shoulders
Successive
Water
Skin
Shrugged
Left
Skins
Fur
Beautiful
Tongue
Drops
Patina
Back
Shining
Stroke
Trickled
Life
Turned
Ripped
Nascent
World
Behinds
Strokes
Hairs
Behind
Bloody
Earrings

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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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Out of the frying pan into the fire! What is marriage but prostitution to one man instead of many? No different!
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Soon, nostalgia will be another name for Europe.
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Nothing is a matter of life and death except life and death.
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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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I haven't changed much, over the years. I use less adjectives, now, and have a kinder heart, perhaps.
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I think I want to be in love with you but I don't know how.
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In the mythic schema of all relations between men and women, man proposes, and woman is disposed of.
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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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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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Before he can become a wolf, the lycanthrope strips naked. If you spy a naked man among the pines, you must run as if the Devil were after you.
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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.
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The tiger will never lie down with the lamb he acknowledges no pact that is not reciprocal. The lamb must learn to run with the tigers.
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I don't really think that writers, even great writers, are prophets, or sages, or Messiah-like figures writing is a lonely, sedentary occupation and a touch of megalomania can be comforting around five on a November afternoon when you haven't seen anybody all day.
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Reading a book is like re-writing it for yourself. You bring to a novel, anything you read, all your experience of the world. You bring your history and you read it in your own terms.
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