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This isn't the first time the world has come to an end, and it won't be the last either.

Joanne Harris

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Joanne Harris
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: July 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Ends
Firsts
Come
First
Time
World
Either
Lasts
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More quotes by Joanne Harris

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I don't listen to music when I'm writing, but I often do when I'm reworking, editing or when I need to relax.
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Remember, it's the winners write the history books, and the losers get the leavings.
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Sheep are not the docile, pleasant creatures of the pastoral idyll. Any countryman will tell you that. They are sly, occasionally vicious, pathologically stupid. The lenient shepherd may find his flock unruly, definant. I cannot afford to be lenient.
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If you want to know what's important to a culture, learn their language.
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I liked her better for showing a little spirit.
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I speak as I must and cannot be silent.
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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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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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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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Online communities are an expression of loneliness.
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I don't think I've ever had a mentor. The closest thing is my friend Christopher Fowler, another writer. Chris kept me sane for a long time before I made it.
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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.
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Their love was something which coloured the air between them like sunlight.
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The dead know everything but they don't give a damn.
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Anything based on ancient texts is difficult for a modern reader to get their head around.
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Places have their own characters. . . . But the people begin to look the same.
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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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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.
Joanne Harris
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A thing named is a thing tamed.
Joanne Harris