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What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring like a bear in the chimney?

Diane Setterfield

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Diane Setterfield
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: August 22
Author
Writer
Midnight
Bear
Bears
Wind
Dark
Truth
Chimney
Good
Chimneys
Like
Roaring

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There are too many books in the world to read in a single lifetime you have to draw the line somewhere.
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For it must be very lonely being dead.
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Tragedy alters everything.
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Sometimes you can know things. Things about yourself. Things from before you can remember.
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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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Of course I loved books more than people.
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What better way to get to know someone than through her choice and treatment of books?
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People with ambition don't give a damn what other people think of them.
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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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One needs no particular talent to be polite. On the contrary, being nice is what's left when you've failed at everything else.
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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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A good story is always more dazzling than a broken piece of truth.
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Our clients' faces, with the customary outward paleness and inner glow of the book lover.
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But she had that laugh, and the sound of it was so beautiful that when you heard it, it was as if your eyes saw her through your ears and she was transformed.
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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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My genius is not so frail a thing that it cowers from the dirty fingers of newspapernen.
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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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As for you, you are alive. But it's not the same as living.
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Boys do not leave their boyhood behind when they leave off their school uniform.
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Once upon a time there was a fairy godmother, but the rest of the time there was none. This story is about one of those other times.
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