New Zealander - Novelist | August 28, 1924 - January 29, 2004
Electricity, the peril the wind sings to in the wires on a gray day.
Janet Frame
DayWindElectricityGrayPeril
From the first place of liquid darkness, within the second place of air and light, I set down the following record with its mixture of fact and truths and memories of truths and its direction toward the Third Place, where the starting point is myth.
MemoriesLightDarknessDirection
It would be nice to travel if you knew where you were going and where you would live at the end or do we ever know, do we ever live where we live, we're always in other places, lost, like sheep.
LiveTravelEndSheepYouBe Nice
Very often the law of extremity demands an attention to irrelevance.
LawAttentionDemandsVeryOften
Divisions of the kind were fashionable at that time, and it was so easy to stifle one's need to help by deciding that help could neither be accepted nor understood.
TimeHelpEasyKindNeedUnderstood
I like to see life with its teeth out.
LifeTeethSeeOutLike
Writing a novel is not merely going on a shopping expedition across the border to an unreal land: it is hours and years spent in the factories, the streets, the cathedrals of the imagination.
ImaginationWritingShoppingBorder
For your own good is a persuasive argument that will eventually make a man agree to his own destruction.
GoodManArgumentWillOwnAgree
They think I'm going to be a schoolteacher but I'm going to be a poet.
ThinkPoetGoingSchoolteacher
They meant abnormal. Divisions of the kind were fashionable at that time, and it was so easy to stifle one's need to help by deciding that help could neither be accepted nor understood.
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