I had the brief notion that his heart, pressed flat as a flower, crimson and thin as tissue paper, lay in this file. It was a very thin one.
Angela CarterThere was a house we all had in common and it was called the past, even though we'd lived in different rooms.
Angela CarterTags: past
MINISTER: All he has done is to find some means of bewitching the intelligence. He has only induced a radical suspension of disbelief. As in the early days of the cinema, all the citizens are jumping through the screen to lay their hands on the naked lady in the bathtub!
AMBASSADOR: And yet, in fact, their fingers touch flesh.
MINISTER: They believe they do. Yet all they touch is substantial shadow.
AMBASSADOR: And what a beautiful definition of flesh! You know I am only substantial shadow, Minister, but if you cut me, I bleed. Touch me, I palpitate!
Tags: flesh shadow desire cinema
She stayed beside me until I slept, waveringly, brilliantly, hooded in diaphanous scarlet, and occasionally she left an imperative written in lipstick on my dusty windowpane. BE AMOROUS! she exhorted one night and, another night, BE MYSTERIOUS! Some nights later, she scribbled: WHEN YOU BEGIN TO THINK, YOU LOSE THE POINT.
Angela CarterTags: dreams desire mysterious lipstick mirrors amorous messages
What do you see when you see me?' She asked him, burying her own face in his bosom.
'Do you want the truth?'
She nodded.
'The firing squad.'
'That's not the whole truth. Try again.'
'Insatiability,' he said with some bitterness.
'That's oblique but altogether too simple. Once more,' she insisted. 'One more time.'
He was silent for several minutes.
'The map of a country in which I only exist by virtue of the extravagance of my metaphors.'
'Now you're being too sophisticated. And, besides, what metaphors do we have in common?
Tags: heroes villains angela-carter
Degredation is the subtlest drug, the most insinuating. But they could do nothing to me I had not already imagined.
Angela CarterThe clown may be the source of mirth, but - who shall make the clown laugh?
Angela CarterProposition one: time is a man, space is a woman.
Angela CarterFor hours, for days, for years, she had wandered endlessly within herself but never met anybody, nobody.
Angela CarterShe had given herself to the world in her entirety and then found nothing was left
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