The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories Quotes

“Magic, madam, is like wine and, if you are not used to it, it will make you drunk.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“The governess was not much liked in the village. She was too tall, too fond of books, too grave, and, a curious thing, never smiled unless there was something to smile at.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“He smiles but rarely and watches other men to see when they laugh and then does the same.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“With characteristic exuberance Tom named this curiously constructed
house Castel des Tours saunz Nowmbre, which means the Castle of
Innumerable Towers. David Montefiore had counted the innumerable
towers in 1764. There were fourteen of them.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Did you ever look into an English novel? Well, do not trouble yourself. It is nothing but a lot of nonsense about girls with fanciful names getting married.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Now toasted cheese is a temptation few men can resist, be they charcoal burners or kings. John Uskglass reasoned thus: all of Cumbria belonged to him – therefore this wood belonged to him – therefore this toasted cheese belonged to him.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Above all remember this: that magic belongs as much to the heart as to the head and everything which is done, should be done from love or joy or righteous anger.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“She had been a comet; and her blazing descent through dark skies had been plain for all to see.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“I was told once by some country people that a magician should never tell his dreams because the telling will make them come true. But I say that is great nonsense.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“In the moonlight David saw that Thoresby had become very peculiar indeed. Figs nestled among the leaves of beech-trees. Elder-trees were bowed down with pomegranates. Ivy was almost torn from walls by the weight of ripe blackberries growing upon it. Anything which had ever possessed any sort of life had sprung fruitfulness. Ancient, dried up frames had become swollen with sap and we putting out twigs, leaves, blossoms and fruit. Door-frames and doors were so distorted that bricks had been pushed out of place and some houses were in danger of collapsing altogether. The cart in the middle of the high street was a grove of silver birches. Its broken wheels put forth briar roses and nightingales sang on it.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Mr Hawkins said nothing; the Hawkins' domestic affairs were arranged upon the principle that Fanny supplied the talk and he the silence.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Saints, such as me, ought always to listen attentively to the prayers of poor, dirty, ragged men, such as you. No matter how offensively those prayers are phased.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Beautiful flames, can destroy so many things—prison walls that hold you, stitches that bind you fast.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“In 1819 the proudest man in all of England was, without a doubt, the Duke of Wellington. This was not particularly surprising; when a man has twice defeated the armies of the wicked French Emperor, Napoleon Bonaparte, it is only natural that he should have a rather high opinion of himself.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Uncle Auberon (who was quite an old gentleman) had stopt listening to them both a while ago and had wandered off to resume his search for a book. It contained a spell for turning Members of Parliament into useful members of society and now, just when Uncle Auberon thought he had a use for it, he could not find it (though he had had it in his hand not a hundred years before). So Mr Goodfellow said nothing but quietly turned himself back into William Shakespeare.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“David was the son of a famous Venetian rabbi. From his youth he had been accustomed to debate good principles and right conduct with all sorts of grave Jewish persons. These conversations had formed his own character and he naturally supposed that a small measure of the same could not help but improve other people's. In short he had come to believe that if only one talks long enough and expresses oneself properly, it is perfectly possible to argue people into being good and happy. With this aim in mind he generally took it upon himself to quarrel with Tom Brightwind several times a week -- all without noticeable effect.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Saint Oswald put his head out of Heaven and cried, "Do you have to shout so loud? I am not deaf! What do you want? And put down that candlestick! It was expensive!" During their holy and blessed lives Saint Kentigern and Saint Bridget had been a monk and a nun respectively; they were full of mild, saintly patience. But Saint Oswald had been a king and a soldier, and he was a very different sort of person.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Immediately the Charcoal Burner began a long indignant speech describing the injuries that had been done to him, and in particular the part played by the solitary huntsman. "Well," said Saint Kentigern, cheerfully. "Let me see what I can do. Saints, such as me, ought always to listen attentively to the prayers of poor, dirty, ragged men, such as you. No matter how offensively those prayers are phrased. You are our special care.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“This suggested an idea to the Queen of Scots. "Did the Countess's husbands all die naturally?" she asked. Mrs Seton snorted in ridicule and leant closer. "Her first husband was no more than a boy! The Countess - who was only plain Bess Hardwick then - embroidered him a coat all chequered over with black and white squares. And, after he had worn it a few times, he began to complain that the whole world had become to him nothing but black and white squares. Every dark tabletop seemed to him a gaping black hole that meant to swallow him up and every window filled with white winter light was ghostly to him and full of malicious intent. And so he died, raving about it." The Queen of Scots was impressed. She had heard of a poisonous dart sewn into a bodice to pierce the flesh, but she had never heard of anyone being killed by embroidery before. She herself was very fond of embroidery.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Poor man, you cannot even reconcile what you believe in your heart to be true and what you are obliged to write in the quarterly reviews. Can you go back to London and tell this odd tale? For I think you will find that it is full of all kinds of nonsense that Mr Norrell will not like Raven Kings and the magic of wild creatures and the magic of women. You are no match for us, for we three are quite united, while you, sir, for all your cleverness, are at war, even with yourself. If ever a time comes, when your heart and your head declare a truce, then I suggest you come back to Grace Adieu and then you may tell us what magic we may or may not do.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“It contained a spell for turning Members of Parliament into useful members of society and now, just when Uncle Auberon thought he had a use for it, he could not find it”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Saint Bridget said she was sorry to hear it. "But I do not think I am the proper person to help you. I look after milkmaids and dairymen. I encourage the butter to come and the cheeses to ripen. I have nothing to do with cheese that has been eaten by the wrong person. Saint Nicholas looks after thieves and stolen property. Or there is Saint Alexander of Comana who loves Charcoal Burners. Perhaps," she added hopefully, "you would like to pray to one of them?”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Let us see,” said Saint Oswald. “A man in black clothes, with powerful magic and ravens at his command, and the hunting rights of a king. This suggests nothing to you? No apparently it does not. Well, it so happens that I think I know the person you mean. He is indeed very arrogant and perhaps the time has come to humble him a little. If I understand you aright, you are angry because he does not speak to you?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, I believe I shall loosen his tongue a little.”
“What sort of punishment is that?” asked the Charcoal Burner. “I want you to make Blencathra [hill] fall on his head!”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“And are you married, sir?" Mrs Winstanley asked Tom. "Oh no, madam!" said Tom.
"Yes," David reminded him. "You are, you know."
Tom made a motion with his hand to suggest that it was a situation susceptible to different interpretations.
The truth was that he had a Christian wife. At fifteen she had had a wicked little face, almond-shaped eyes and a most capricious nature. Tom had constantly compared her to a kitten. In her twenties she had been a swan; in her thirties a vixen; and then in rapid succession a bitch, a viper, a cockatrice and, finally, a pig. What animals he might have compared her to now no one knew. She was well past ninety now and for forty years or more she had been confined to a set of apartments in a distant part of the Castel des Tours saunz Nowmbre under strict instructions not to shew herself, while her husband waited impatiently for someone to come and tell him she was dead.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“I was always amazed at Cambridge how quickly people appeared to take offence at everything I said, but now I see plainly that it was not my words they hated - it was this fairy face. The dark alchemy of this face turns all my gentle human emotions into fierce fairy vices. Inside I am all despair, but this face shows only fairy scorn. My remorse becomes fairy fury and my pensiveness is turned to fairy cunning.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“I hope there may be bogs and that John McKenzie may drown in them.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“The Charcoal Burner gave a long description of the injuries his silent enemy had done him. Saint Bridget said she was sorry to hear it. "But I do not think I am the proper person to help you. I look after milkmaids and dairymen. I encourage the butter to come and the cheeses to ripen. I have nothing to do with cheese that has been eaten by the wrong person. Saint Nicholas looks after thieves and stolen property. Or there is Saint Alexander of Comana who loves Charcoal Burners. Perhaps," she added hopefully, "you would like to pray to one of them?”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“John Uskglass gave some vague, mystical and magician-like reply. Then he went up to his room and sat down upon the floor by his silver dish of water. Then he spoke to Persons of Great Importance (such as the West Wind or the Stars) and asked them to tell him who had caused him to be thrown into the cleft.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“But the huntsman had problems of his own. The reason that he had not ridden off with the others was that Blakeman was running, this way and that, beneath his horse's hooves, squealing all the while. Try as he might, the huntsman could not get free of him. The huntsman was very finely dressed in black, with boots of soft black leather and a jewelled harness. He was in fact John Uskglass (otherwise called the Raven King), King of Northern England and parts of Faerie, and the greatest magician that ever lived.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories

“Four husbands! thought the Queen of Scots. And the first three dying in so convenient a manner! - just when the farmer's daughter had grown into her new rank and might be wishing for a greater. The Queen of Scots's husbands had never consulted her convenience in their dying. Her first, the King of France, had died at the age of sixteen and so she had lost the French throne - a circumstance that had caused her great pain. Her second husband (whom she had hated and wished dead) had fallen ill in the most tantalising way, but had utterly failed to die - until some kind person had first blown him up and then strangled him.”
― Susanna Clarke, The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories