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It would need someone very remarkable to recover your name, Stephen, someone of rare perspicacity, with extraordinary talents and incomparable nobility of character. Me, in fact.

Susanna Clarke

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Susanna Clarke
Age: 64
Born: 1959
Born: November 16
Author
Editor
Language Teacher
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Susanna Mary Clarke
Fact
Nobility
Facts
Talents
Someone
Rare
Character
Remarkable
Need
Extraordinary
Perspicacity
Needs
Talent
Incomparable
Would
Name
Stephen
Names
Recover

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To be more precise it was the color of heartache.
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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.
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He smiles but rarely and watches other men to see when they laugh and then does the same.
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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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It is these black clothes, said Strange. I am like a leftover piece of funeral, condemned to walk about the Town, frightening people into thinking of their own mortality.
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But, though French, she was also very brave.
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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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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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A piece of writing is like a piece of magic. You create something out of nothing.
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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.
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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.
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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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Mr. Robinson was a polished sort of person. He was so clean and healthy and pleased about everything that he positively shone - which is only to be expected in a fairy or an angel, but is somewhat disconcerting in an attorney.
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Some years ago there was in the city of York a society of magicians. They met upon the third Wednesday of every month and read each other long, dull papers upon the history of English magic.
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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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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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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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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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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.
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Lovers are rarely the most rational beings in creation.
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