Places do not lose their identity, however far one travels. It is the heart that begins to erode over time. The face in the hotel mirror seems blurred some mornings, as if by too many casual looks. By ten the sheets will be laundered, the carpet swept. The names on the hotel registers change as we pass. We leave no trace as we pass on. Ghostlike, we cast no shadow.
Joanne HarrisIt's a feeling which tells me that any woman can be beautiful in the eyes of a man who loves her.
Joanne HarrisI'm politically inclined towards the left, but I don't like to be in anyone's gang; I'm a bit of a loose cannon.
Joanne HarrisI have a tendency to pick up my own challenges. The more difficult something it is, the more I want to try it.
Joanne HarrisThat wind. I see it's blowing now. Furtive but commanding, it has dictated every move we've ever made. My mother felt it, and so do I - even here, even now - as it sweeps us like leaves into his backseat corner, dancing us to shreds against the stones. V'la l'bon vent, v'a l'joli vent. I though we'd silenced it for good. But the smallest thing can wake the wind@ a word, a sign, even a death. There's no such thing as a trivial thing. Everything costs; it all adds up until finally the balance shifts and we're gone again, back on the road, telling ourselves - well maybe next time
Joanne Harris