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A day without an argument is like an egg without salt.
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
Salt
Eggs
Argument
Literature
Without
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More quotes by Angela Carter
She herself is a haunted house. She does not possess herself her ancestors sometimes come and peer out of the windows of her eyes and that is very frightening. from The Lady of the Haunted House
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Our fingernails match our toenails, match our lipstick match our rouge...The habit of applying warpaint outlasts the battle.
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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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A broken heart is never a tragedy. Only untimely death is a tragedy.
Angela Carter
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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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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ordered me a sky from a florist
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There are lots of things that you can brush under the carpet about yourself until you're faced with somebody whose needs won't be put off.
Angela Carter
Irish was a man of parts even if some of them didn't work too well.
Angela Carter
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.
Angela Carter
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.
Angela Carter
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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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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I haven't changed much, over the years. I use less adjectives, now, and have a kinder heart, perhaps.
Angela Carter
Not many people can boast a photo of their grandmother posing for kiddiporn.
Angela Carter
The invisible is only another unexplored country, a brave new world.
Angela Carter
Nostalgia, the vice of the aged.
Angela Carter
If the Barbarians are destroyed, who will we then be able to blame for the bad things?
Angela Carter
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.
Angela Carter
Cities have sexes: London is a man, Paris a woman, and New York a well-adjusted transsexual.
Angela Carter