Quote

She dropped her shyness like a nightgown, and in the liquid glare of sunlight on old boards she held up her hands-as if, in the terror of the upcoming skirmish, she had at last understood that she was beautiful. In her own way.

Gregory Maguire

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Gregory Maguire
Age: 70
Born: 1954
Born: June 9
Novelist
Writer
Albany
New York
Understood
Glare
Lasts
Shyness
Last
Liquid
Beautiful
Dropped
Hands
Sunlight
Way
Boards
Skirmish
Like
Held
Nightgown
Terror
Upcoming

More quotes by Gregory Maguire

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It isn't whether you do it well or ill, it's that you do it all.
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Yet who can say how our souls have been stamped by witnessing such a cruel drama? All souls are hostages to their human envelopes, but souls must decay and suffer at such indignity, don't you agree?
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To read, even in the half-dark, is also to call the lost forward.
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I may not know how to fly but I know how to read, and that's almost the same thing.
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I hate New Year's Eve. One more chance to remember that you haven't yet done what you wanted. And to pretend it doesn't matter.
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[Puggles] What population signs on willingly for slavery? You mean other than wives? [Glinda]
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Cross a man and you struggle, one of you wins, you adjust and go on - or you lie there dead. Cross a woman and the universe is changed, once again, for cold anger requires an eternal vigilance in all matters of slight and offense
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I never write a book unless I can't help it. Something has to bother me, like a mosquito, until I have to do something to relieve the itch.
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I may not be sure if monsters exist, but I’d rather live my life in doubt than be persuaded by a real experience of one.
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...looking at him makes her feel like laughing all over - as if she could laugh not just with her mouth but with her eyes, her heart, her very limbs.
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There were more ways to live than the ones given by one's superiors
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Sorrow has a name, and its name is loneliness. Sorrow has a shape, and its shape is absence. Sorrow is a sickness like any other.
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Evil is an act, not an appetite. How many haven't wanted to slash the throat of some boor across the dining room table? Present company excepted of course. Everyone has the appetite. If you give in to it, it, that act is evil. The appetite is normal.
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My job is to protect you, Lady Glinda even if you are loosing your mind.
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In the end, all disguises must drop.
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Perhaps family itself, like beauty, is temporary, and no discredit need attach to impermanence.
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When the times are a crucible, when the air is full of crisis, those who are the most themselves are the victims.
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Notice, notice let noticing take the place of screaming.
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Does the devil ever struggle to be good again, or if so is he not a devil?
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Memory is a part of the present. It builds us up inside it knits our bones to our muscles and keeps our hearts pumping. It is memory that reminds our bodies to work, and memory that reminds our spirits to work to: it keeps us who we are.~Candle
Gregory Maguire