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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

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
Tales
King
Kings
Goes
Borrow
Story
Tale
Another
Sugar
Stories
Cups
Kind
Fairy

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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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The wolf is carnivore incarnate and he's as cunning as he is ferocious once he's had a taste of flesh then nothing else will do.
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Your thin white face, chérie he said, as if he saw it for the first time. Your thin white face, with its promise of debauchery only a connoisseur could detect.
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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 the adjective post-modernist really means mannerist. Books about books is fun but frivolous.
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Losing their names, these things underwent a process of uncreation.
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The kind of power mothers have is enormous.
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Why do you do up your hair in those tortured plaits, now, Melanie? Why? Because, she said. You know that's no answer. You're spoiling your pretty looks, pet. Come here. She did not move. He ground out his cigarette on the window-ledge and laughed. Come here, he said again, softly. So she went.
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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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Drosselmeier had unwittingly exposed himself to an overdose of reality, and it had destroyed his reason.
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The end of all stories, even if the writer forebears to mention it, is death, which is where time stops short. Sheherezade knew this, which is why she kept on spinning another story out of the bowels of the last one, never coming to a point where she could say: This is the end. Because it would have been.
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That is what I'm looking forward to the most, practical learning. I want to be a registered nurse so getting to talk to people who already work in those jobs can really teach me what to expect when I get out in the real world.
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What a joy it is to dance and sing!
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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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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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