Quote

He was a lovely man in many ways. But he kept on insisting on forgiving me when there was nothing to forgive.

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
Kept
Ways
Nothing
Many
Way
Insisting
Men
Forgive
Forgiving
Lovely

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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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I think the adjective post-modernist really means mannerist. Books about books is fun but frivolous.
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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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One day, Annabel saw the sun and moon in the sky at the same time. The sight filled her with a terror which entirely consumed her and did not leave her until the night closed in catastrophe for she had no instinct for self-preservation if she was confronted by ambiguities.
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The child's laughter is pure until he first laughs at a clown.
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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
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A mother is always a mother, since a mother is a biological fact, whilst a father is a movable feast.
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The clown may be the source of mirth, but - who shall make the clown laugh?
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Those are the voices of my brothers, darling I love the company of wolves.
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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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Home is where the heart is and hence a movable feast.
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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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Just because we're sisters under the skin doesn't mean we've got much in common.
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She stood lost in eternity wearing a crazy dress, watching the immense sky.
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