Quote

And so Nat stood up and joined the group, and followed, and watched, and awaited his chance as the light of Chaos lit the plain and gods and demons marched to war.

Joanne Harris

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Joanne Harris
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: July 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
War
Watched
Light
Demon
Awaited
Stood
Marched
Gods
Lit
Chaos
Demons
Group
Joined
Groups
Plain
Chance
Followed

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People reveal so much of their mental processes online, simply because the psychological effect of anonymity just means that a whole raft of inhibitions are left alone when people log on.
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Online communities are an expression of loneliness.
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Sometimes survival is the worst alternative there is
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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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Some things can be both real and imaginary at the same time, . . . some lies can be true, . . . broken faith may be restored.
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Remember, it's the winners write the history books, and the losers get the leavings.
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I am fascinated by how people eat and what it reveals about them.
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I like autumn. The drama of it the golden lion roaring through the back door of the year, shaking its mane of leaves. A dangerous time of violent rages and deceptive calm, of fireworks in the pockets and conkers in the fist.
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The battle of good and evil reduced to a fat woman standing in front of a chocolate shop, saying, Will I? Won’t I? in pitiful indecision.
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She always had that about her, that look of otherness, of eyes that see things much too far, and of thoughts that wander off the edge of the world.
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A little tantrum in real life seems so much bigger online.
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If you want to know what's important to a culture, learn their language.
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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 sell dreams, small comforts, sweet harmless temptations to bring down a multitude of saints crashing among the hazels and nougatines
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As authors, we all expect criticism from time to time, and we all have our ways of coping with unfriendly reviews.
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Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.
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Our lives are like these things I make. Turn 'em, build 'em, bake 'em in fire. That's what you've been, son. Baked and fired. But a pot don't have the right to choose whether he be for water, wine, or just left empty. You have, son. You have.
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I liked her better for showing a little spirit.
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The right circumstances sometimes happen of their own accord, slyly, without fanfare, without warning. Layman's alchemy. . . . The magic of everyday things.
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The process of writing is a little like madness, a kind of possession not altogether benign.
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