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But silence is not a natural environment for stories. They need words. Without them they grown pale, sicken and die. And then they haunt you.

Diane Setterfield

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Diane Setterfield
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: August 22
Author
Writer
Natural
Sicken
Stories
Haunt
Without
Pale
Need
Grown
Needs
Silence
Environment
Dies
Words

More quotes by Diane Setterfield

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What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring like a bear in the chimney?
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For it must be very lonely being dead.
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She was a do-gooder, which means that all the ill she did, she did without realizing it.
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Our clients' faces, with the customary outward paleness and inner glow of the book lover.
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Sometimes you can know things. Things about yourself. Things from before you can remember.
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To anyone who took the trouble to look, I was plainly visible, but when people are expecting to see nothing, that is usually what they see.
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As for you, you are alive. But it's not the same as living.
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What better way to get to know someone than through her choice and treatment of books?
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I have always been a reader I have read at every stage of my life, and there has never been a time when reading was not my greatest joy
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There are cultures in which it is believed that a name contains all a persons mystical power. That a name should be known only to God and to the person who holds it and to very few privileged others. To pronounce such a name either ones own or someone else's is to invite jeopardy. This it seemed was such a name.
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Of course I loved books more than people.
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A good story is always more dazzling than a broken piece of truth.
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All children mythologise their birth. It is a universal trait. You want to know someone? Heart, mind and soul? Ask him to tell you about when he was born. What you get won’t be the truth: it will be a story. And nothing is more telling than a story.
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There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic.
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I know there are people who don't read fiction at all, and I find it hard to understand how they can bear to be inside the same head all the time.
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My mother and I were like two continents moving slowly but inexorably apart my father, the bridge builder, constantly extending the fragile edifice he had constructed to connect us.
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opening the book, i inhaled. the smell of old books, so sharp, so dry you can taste it.
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People with ambition don't give a damn what other people think of them.
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The tears I gratified him with were fake ones. Ones that set off my green eyes the way diamonds set off emeralds. And it worked. If you dazzled a man with green eyes, he will be so hypnotized that he won’t notice there is someone inside the eyes spying on him. – Vida Winters Page 268
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A birth is not really a beginning. Our lives at the start are not really our own but only the continuation of someone else's story.
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