My mother and I were like two continents moving slowly but inexorably apart; my father, the bridge builder, constantly extending the fragile edifice he had constructed to connect us.
Diane SetterfieldThere is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic.
Diane SetterfieldMy genius is not so frail a thing that it cowers from the dirty fingers of newspapernen.
Diane SetterfieldBut silence is not a natural environment for stories. They need words. Without them they grown pale, sicken and die. And then they haunt you.
Diane SetterfieldI am human. Like all humans, I do not remember my birth. By the time we wake up to ourselves, we are little children, and our advent is something that happened an eternity ago, at the beginning of time. We live like latecomers to the theater; we must catch up as best we can, divining the begging from the shape of later events. - Vida Winter
Diane Setterfield