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It isn't just a village. The houses aren't just places to live. Everything belongs to everybody. Everyone belongs to everyone else. Even a single person can make a difference.

Joanne Harris

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Joanne Harris
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: July 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Else
Places
Persons
Aren
Person
Difference
Live
Single
Everything
Differences
Even
Everybody
Houses
Make
Everyone
Belongs
House
Village

More quotes by Joanne Harris

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I am fascinated by how people eat and what it reveals about them.
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A little tantrum in real life seems so much bigger online.
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You don't write because someone sets assignments! You write because you need to write, or because you hope someone will listen or because writing will mend something broken inside you or bring something back to life.
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Change isn't always comfortable, but it is a fact of life.
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To be closed from everything, and yet to feel, to think...This is the truth of hell, stripped of its gaudy medievalisms. This loss of contact.
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I think if you are an outsider then you are an outsider always.
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I'd rather be a freak than a clone.
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Sometimes survival is the worst alternative there is
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I can write absolutely anywhere. All I need is a laptop.
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Life is what you celebrate. All of it. Even its end.
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If you want to know what's important to a culture, learn their language.
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Everything comes home, my mother used to say every word spoken, every shadow cast, every footprint in the sand. It can't be helped it's part of what makes us who we are.
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I let it go. It's like swimming against the current. It exhausts you. After a while, whoever you are, you just have to let go, and the river brings you home.
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I'm phobic about the idea of being constrained.
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Clones fit in. Freaks stand out. Ask me which one I prefer.
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I carried recipes in my head like maps.
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Nat Parson says it's the devil's mark. Nat Parson's a gobshite. Maddy was torn between a natural feeling of sacrilege and a deep admiration of anyone who dared call a parson 'gobshite.
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Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.
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We came in the wind of the carnival. A wind of change, or promises. The merry wind, the magical wind, making March hares of everyone, tumbling blossoms and coat-tails and hats rushing towards summer in a frenzy of exuberance.
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You priests. You're all the same. You think fasting helps you think about God, when anyone who can cook would tell you that fasting just makes you think about food.
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