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For hours, for days, for years, she had wandered endlessly within herself but never met anybody, nobody.

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
Anybody
Nobody
Days
Within
Hours
Years
Wandered
Never
Endlessly
Mets

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Nothing is a matter of life and death except life and death.
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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 kind of power mothers have is enormous.
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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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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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They will be like shadows, they will be like wraiths, gray members of a congregation of nightmare hark! his long wavering howl . . . an aria of fear made audible. The wolfsong is the sound of the rending you will suffer, in itself a murdering.
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In a world where women are commodities, a woman who refuses to sell herself will have the thing she refuses to sell taken away from her by force
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The clown may be the source of mirth, but - who shall make the clown laugh?
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The child's laughter is pure until he first laughs at a clown.
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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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Drosselmeier had unwittingly exposed himself to an overdose of reality, and it had destroyed his reason.
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Fine art, that exists for itself alone, is art in a final state of impotence. If nobody, including the artist, acknowledges art as a means of knowing the world, then art is relegated to a kind of rumpus room of the mind and the irresponsibility of the artist and the irrelevance of art to actual living becomes part and parcel of the practice of art.
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Not many people can boast a photo of their grandmother posing for kiddiporn.
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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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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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we must not blame our poor symbols if they take forms that seem trivial to us, or absurd, ... however paltry they may be the nature of our life alone has determined their forms.
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