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Certainly I had a really terrible time with 'Emotionally Weird.' When I finished it, I thought, 'I can't write any more.

Kate Atkinson

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Kate Atkinson
Age: 72
Born: 1951
Born: December 20
Journalist
Novelist
Playwright
Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
Writer
Jórvík
Time
Weird
Finished
Certainly
Terrible
Write
Thought
Writing
Really
Emotionally

More quotes by Kate Atkinson

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They said love made you strong, but in Louise's opinion it made you weak. It corkscrewed into your heart and you couldn't get it out again, not without ripping your heart to pieces.
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I am mad, I think. I am mad therefore I think. I am mad therefore I think I am.
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You must never believe everything they say about a person. Generally speaking, most of it will be lies, half-truths at best.
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The past is what you take with you.
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Jennifer had never liked the pain of remembering what had happened, but for Theo it was the pain that kept Laura alive in his memory. He was afraid that if it ever began to heal she would disappear.
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Hindsight's a wonderful thing. If we all had it there would be no history to write about.
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Sometimes,' Sylvie said, 'one can mistake gratitude for love.
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She doesn't believe in dogs, Bridget said. Dogs are hardly an article of faith, Sylvie said.
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Patricia embraces me on the station platform. 'The past is what you leave behind in life, Ruby,' she says with the smile of a reincarnated lama. 'Nonsense, Patricia,' I tell her as I climb on board my train. 'The past's what you take with you.
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Time was a thief, he stole your life away from you and the only way you could get it back was to outwit him and snatch it right back.
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The beginning is the word and the end is silence. And in between are all the stories.
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I think about death a lot, I really do, because I can't believe I won't exist. It's the ego isn't it? I feel that I should retreat into a better form of Zen Buddhism than this kind of ego-dominated thing. But I don't know, I mean, I want to come back as a tree but I suspect that it's just not going to happen, is it?
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When you chopped logs with the ax and they split open they smelled beautiful, like Christmas. But when you split someone's head open it smelled like abattoir and quite overpowered the scent of the wild lilacs you'd cut and brought into the house only this morning, which was already another life.
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I did feel when my mother died if anyone was going to haunt me it would be her. And she hasn't, so I think it is possibly the end.
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You can step in the same river but the water will always be new.
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Ursula craved solitude but she hated loneliness, a conundrum that she couldn’t even begin to solve.
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Oh, God. What was happening to her, she was turning into a normal person.
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Love was the hardest thing. Don't let anyone ever tell you different.
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Julia's vocabulary was chock-full of strangely archaic words - spiffing, crumbs, jeepers - that seemed to have originated in some prewar girls' annual rather than in Julia's own life. For Jackson, words were functional, they helped you get to places and explain things. For Julia, they were freighted with inexplicable emotion.
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She was a terrible mother, there was no doubt about it, but she didn't even have the strength to feel guilty.
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