Quote

At the best of times, spring hurts depressives.

Angela Carter

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Hurts
Spring
Hurt
Times
Best

More quotes by Angela Carter

Image
Those are the voices of my brothers, darling I love the company of wolves.
Angela Carter
Image
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.
Angela Carter
Image
What would the daughters of the rich do with themselves if the poor ceased to exist?
Angela Carter
Image
I think I want to be in love with you but I don't know how.
Angela Carter
Image
Out of the frying pan into the fire! What is marriage but prostitution to one man instead of many? No different!
Angela Carter
Image
What a joy it is to dance and sing!
Angela Carter
Image
Sad so sad, those smoky-rose, smoky-mauve evenings of late Autumn, sad enough to pierce the heart.
Angela Carter
Image
I am entirely alone. I and my shadow fill the universe.
Angela Carter
Image
Nothing is a matter of life and death except life and death.
Angela Carter
Image
Home is where the heart is and hence a movable feast.
Angela Carter
Image
Spindly branches of buttercups were secreted among gleaming stems still moist at the roots from last night's rain that had washedand refreshed the entire wood, had dowered it in poignant transparency, the unique, inconsolable quality of rainy countries, as if all was glimpsed through tears.
Angela Carter
Image
It shone on everyone, whether they had a contract or not. The most democratic thing I'd ever seen, that California sunshine.
Angela Carter
Image
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.
Angela Carter
Image
Nostalgia, the vice of the aged.
Angela Carter
Image
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.
Angela Carter
Image
The end of exile is the end of being.
Angela Carter
Image
The clown may be the source of mirth, but - who shall make the clown laugh?
Angela Carter
Image
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.
Angela Carter
Image
Strangers used to gather together at the cinema and sit together in the dark, like Ancient Greeks participating in the mysteries, dreaming the same dream in unison.
Angela Carter
Image
For hours, for days, for years, she had wandered endlessly within herself but never met anybody, nobody.
Angela Carter