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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.

Joanne Harris

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Joanne Harris
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: July 3
Author
Novelist
Writer
Makes
Cook
Would
Priests
Think
Cooks
Thinking
Helps
Food
Anyone
Helping
Tell
Fasting

More quotes by Joanne Harris

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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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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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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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The process of giving is without limits.
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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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Drunkeness, she told us in a rare moment of confidence, is a sin against the fruit, the tree, the wine itself. Wine, distilled and nurtured from bud into fruit it deserves reverance. Joy. Gentleness. (Page 194.)
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If you want to know what's important to a culture, learn their language.
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The process of writing is a little like madness, a kind of possession not altogether benign.
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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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Change isn't always comfortable, but it is a fact of life.
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I'd rather be a freak than a clone.
Joanne Harris
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I carried recipes in my head like maps.
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Life is what you celebrate. All of it. Even its end.
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Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.
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What is a writer of fiction but a liar with a licence?
Joanne Harris
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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.
Joanne Harris
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Guilleaume left La Praline with a small bag of florentines in his pocket before he had turned the corner of avenue des Francs Bourgeois I saw him stoop to offer one to the dog. A pat, a bark, a wagging of the short stubby tail. As I said, some people never have to think about giving.
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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.
Joanne Harris
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I think everybody has a secret life.
Joanne Harris