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I would have to find something else to bury here and I wished it could be Charles.

Shirley Jackson

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Shirley Jackson
Age: 48 †
Born: 1916
Born: December 14
Died: 1965
Died: September 8
Author
Journalist
Non-Fiction Writer
Novelist
Writer
San Francisco County
California
Shirley Hardie Jackson
Would
Bury
Charles
Wished
Else
Find
Something

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All cat stories start with this statement: My mother, who was the first cat, told me this...
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It is only with the eyes open that a corporeal form returns, and assembles itself firmly around the hard core of sight.
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Hill House, she thought, You're as hard to get into as heaven.
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We eat the year away. We eat the spring and the summer and the fall. We wait for something to grow and then we eat it.
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I am like a small creature swallowed whole by a monster, she thought, and the monster feels my tiny little movements inside.
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It was one of those winter days that suddenly dream of spring, when the sky is blue and soft and clear, and the wind has dropped its voice and whispers instead of screaming, and the sun is out and the trees look surprised, and over everything there is the faintest, palest tint of green.
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Fear, the doctor said, is the relinquishment of logic, the willing relinquishing of reasonable patterns. We yield to it or we fight it, but we cannot meet it halfway.
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I really think I shall commence chapter forty-four, he said, patting his hands together. I shall commence, I think, with a slight exaggeration and go on from there into an outright lie. Constance, my dear? Yes, Uncle Julian? I am going to say that my wife was a beautiful woman.
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in all the world there is not someone who does not believe something.
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Wear your boots if you wander today
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It watches, he added suddenly. The house. It watches every move you make.
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On the moon we have everything. Lettuce, and pumpkin pie and Amanita phalloides. We have cat-furred plants and horses dancing with their wings. All the locks are solid and tight, and there are no ghosts.
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I can't help it when people are frightened, says Merricat. I always want to frighten them more.
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February, when the days of winter seem endless and no amount of wistful recollecting can bring back any air of summer.
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It has long been my belief that in times of great stress, such as a 4-day vacation, the thin veneer of family wears off almost at once, and we are revealed in our true personalities.
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The idea of a series of items, following one another docilely, forms the only possible reasonable approach to life if you have to live it with a home and a husband and children, none of whom would dream of following one another docilely.
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I very much dislike writing about myself or my work, and when pressed for autobiographical material can only give a bare chronological outline which contains no pertinent facts.
Shirley Jackson
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Oh Constance, we are so happy.
Shirley Jackson
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We moved together very slowly toward the house, trying to understand its ugliness and ruin and shame.
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He is altogether selfish, she thought in some surprise, the only man I have ever sat and talked to alone, and I am impatient he is simply not very interesting.
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