As much as I try to make the past keep still and mind its manners, it moves and murmurs with me through every day.
Deborah LevyI have never got a grip on when the past begins or where it ends, but if cities map the past with statues made from bronze forever frozen in one dignified position, as much as I try to make the past keep still and mind its manners, it moves and murmurs with me through every day.
Deborah LevyThe young woman was a window waiting to be climbed through. A window that she guessed was a little broken anyway.
Deborah LevyI can't stand THE DEPRESSED. It's like a job, it's the only thing they work hard at.
Deborah LevyHas anyone ever actually told you how up yourself you are?
Deborah LevyTo use the language of a war correspondent, which was, she knew, what Isabel Jacobs happened to be, she would have to say thay Kitty Finch was smiling at her with hostile intent.
Deborah LevyWe're kissing in the rain.' Her voice was hard and soft at the same time. Like the velvet armchairs. Like the black rain inked on his hand.
Deborah LevyTo become a WRITER I had to learn to INTERRUPT, to speak up, to speak a little louder, and then LOUDER, and then to just speak in my own voice which is NOT LOUD AT ALL.
Deborah LevyTags: writers-on-writing
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