Quote

Our fingernails match our toenails, match our lipstick match our rouge...The habit of applying warpaint outlasts the battle.

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
Battle
Habit
Outlasts
Toenails
Rouge
Fingernails
Applying
Lipstick
Match

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I think the adjective post-modernist really means mannerist. Books about books is fun but frivolous.
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I am entirely alone. I and my shadow fill the universe.
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He is the intermediary between us, his audience, the living, and they, the dolls, the undead, who cannot live at all and yet who mimic the living in every detail since, though they cannot speak or weep, still they project those signals of signification we instantly recognize as language.
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Soon, nostalgia will be another name for Europe.
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[T]ea, that uniquely English meal, that unnecessary collation at which no stimulants--neither alcohol nor meat--are served, that comforting repast of which to partake is as good as second childhood.
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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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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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Nostalgia, the vice of the aged. We watch so many old movies our memories come in monochrome.
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I think I want to be in love with you but I don't know how.
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My paternal grandmother would not light a fire on the Sabbath and piled all Sunday's washing-up in a bucket, to be dealt with on Monday morning, because the Sabbath was a day of rest--a practice that made my paternal grandfather, the village atheist, as mad as fire. Nevertheless, he willed five quid to the minister, just to be on the safe side.
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Aeneas carried his aged father on his back from the ruins of Troy and so do we all, whether we like it or not, perhaps even if we have never known them.
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She stands and moves within the invisible pentacle of her own virginity. She is an unbroken egg: she is a sealed vessel she has inside her a magic space the entrance to which is shut tight with a plug of membrane she is a closed system she does not know how to shiver.
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Reading a book is like re-writing it for yourself.
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A broken heart is never a tragedy. Only untimely death is a tragedy.
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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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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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ordered me a sky from a florist
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Love is desire sustained by unfulfilment.
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The end of exile is the end of being.
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Not many people can boast a photo of their grandmother posing for kiddiporn.
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