Quote

Bryon tilted his head to a very odd angle, half-closed his eyes and composed his features to suggest that he was about to expire from chronic indigestion.

Susanna Clarke

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Susanna Clarke
Age: 65
Born: 1959
Born: November 16
Author
Editor
Language Teacher
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Susanna Mary Clarke
Odd
Closed
Tilted
Features
Expire
Head
Indigestion
Eyes
Chronic
Half
Composed
Eye
Angle
Suggest

More quotes by Susanna Clarke

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And how shall I think of you?' He considered a moment and then laughed. 'Think of me with my nose in a book!
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I was told once by some country people that a magician should never tell his dreams because the telling will make them come true. But I say that is great nonsense.
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Well, I suppose one ought not to employ a magician and then complain that he does not behave like other people.
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I have a scholar's love of silence and solitude. To sit and pass hour after hour in idle chatter with a roomful of strangers is to me the worst sort of torment.
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The land is all too shallow It is painted on the sky And trembles like the wind-shook rain When the Raven King passed by
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Sing like no one is listening. Love like you’ve never been hurt. Dance like nobody’s watching, and live like it’s heaven on earth.
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She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows, and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.
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He screamed. Mmm?' inquired the gentleman. I...I would never presume to interrupt you, sir. But the ground appears to be swallowing me up.' It is a bog,' said the gentleman, helpfully. It is certainly a most terrifying substance.
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There is nothing in the world so easy to explain as failure - it is, after all, what everybody does all the time.
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He understood for the first time that the world is not dumb at all, but merely waiting for someone to speak to it in a language it understands.
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After two hours it stopped raining and in the same moment the spell broke, which Peroquet and the Admiral and Captain Jumeau knew by a curious twist of their senses, as if they had tasted a string quartet, or been, for a moment, deafened by the sight of colour blue.
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Oh! And they read English novels! David! Did you ever look into an English novel? Well, do not trouble yourself. It is nothing but a lot of nonsense about girls with fanciful names getting married.
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For, though the room was silent, the silence of half a hundred cats is a peculiar thing, like fifty individual silences all piled one on top of another.
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He hardly ever spoke of magic, and when he did it was like a history lesson and no one could bear to listen to him.
Susanna Clarke
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What nobility of feeling! To sacrifice your own pleasure to preserve the comfort of others! It is a thing, I confess, that would never occur to me.
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Can a magician kill a man by magic?” Lord Wellington asked Strange. Strange frowned. He seemed to dislike the question. “I suppose a magician might,” he admitted, “but a gentleman never would.
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Unfortunately, Childermass's French was so strongly accented by his native Yorkshire that Minervois did not understand and asked Strange if Childermass was Dutch.
Susanna Clarke
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Such nonsense! declared Dr Greysteel. Whoever heard of cats doing anything useful! Except for staring at one in a supercilious manner, said Strange. That has a sort of moral usefulness, I suppose, in making one feel uncomfortable and encouraging sober reflection upon one's imperfections.
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It has been remarked (by a lady infinitely cleverer than the present author) how kindly disposed the world in general feels to young people who either die or marry.
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I mean that two of any thing is a most uncomfortable number. One may do as he pleases. Six may get along well enough. But two must always struggle for mastery. Two must always watch each other. The eyes of all the world will be on two, uncertain which of them to follow.
Susanna Clarke