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Carlos Ruiz Zafon

"The only thing I can recall is that it rained all day and all night, and that when I asked my father whether heaven was crying, he couldn't bring himself to reply. Six years later my mother's absence remained in the air around us, a deafening silence that I had not yet learned to stifle with words."

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"The only thing I can recall is that it rained all day and all night, and that when I asked my father whether heaven was crying, he couldn't bring himself to reply. Six years later my mother's absence remained in the air around us, a deafening silence that I had not yet learned to stifle with words."

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Asa Don Brown

"The only thing I can recall is that it rained all day and all night, and that when I asked my father whether heaven was crying, he couldn't bring himself to reply. Six years later my mother's absence remained in the air around us, a deafening silence that I had not yet learned to stifle with words."

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Asa Don Brown

"And yet... you wouldn't want it to stop hurting... you wouldn't want to forget your little mother even if you could."

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Asa Don Brown

"It was a hurting tune, resigned, a cry of heartache for all in the world that fell apart. As ash rose black against the brilliant sky, Fire's fiddle cried out for the dead, and for the living who stay behind to say goodbye."

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Asa Don Brown

"Why do they lie? she asked herself aloud. "They say time makes losing someone you loved easier to deal with, but it only makes it worse."

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Asa Don Brown

"I turned and faced the Olympians."We need a shroud," I announced, my voice cracking. "A shroud for the son of Hermes."

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Asa Don Brown

"The death of a beloved is an amputation."

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Asa Don Brown

"Mourning is not forgetting... It is an undoing. Every minute tie has to be untied and something permanent and valuable recovered and assimilated from the dust."

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Asa Don Brown

"The loss of my child broke my spirit."

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Asa Don Brown

"He did touch people's lives, the lives of strangers, in an entirely unanticipated way. It was they who really mourned him - or what they thought was him - with a grief that was no less sharp for not being intimate with its object."

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Asa Don Brown

"I sat up and wiped my eyes, cursing the damned faeries and their eternal war. It seemed there was never enough time. Time to dance, or talk, or laugh, or even mourn the passing of a friend. Slipping off my corsage, I laid it on Ironhorse's cold metal shoulder, wanting him to have something natural and beautiful in this lifeless place.Goodbye, Ironhorse."

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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"It is impossible to survive in a prolonged state of reality."
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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"Man's meanness is a fuse in search of a flame."
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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"The only way you can truly get to know an author is through the trail of ink he leaves behind him. The person you think you see is only an empty character: truth is always hidden in fiction."
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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"Those places where sadness and misery abound are favoured settings for stories of ghosts and apparitions. Calcutta has countless such stories hidden in its darkness, stories that nobody wants to admit they believe but which nevertheless survive in the memory of generations as the only chronicle of the past. It is as if the people who inhabit the streets, inspired by some mysterious wisdom, relalise that the true history of Calcutta has always been written in the invisible tales of its spirits and unspoken curses."
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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"Mention the gothic, and many readers will probably picture gloomy castles and an assortment of sinister Victoriana. However, the truth is that the gothic genre has continued to flourish and evolve since the days of Bram Stoker, producing some of its most interesting and accomplished examples in the 20th century - in literature, film and beyond."
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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"Ben invented mathematical theories that even he didn't manage to remember and wrote such bizarre tales of adventure that he ended up destroying them a week after they were finished, embarrassed at the thought that he had penned them."
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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"Man...heats up like a lightbulb: red hot in the twinkling of an eye and cold again in a flash. The female, on the other hand...heats up like an iron. Slowly, over a low heat, like tasty stew. But then, once she has heated up, there's no stopping her."
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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"Books hold no passports. There's only one true literary tradition: the human."
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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"A Gentleman's agreement cannot be broken without breaking the person who has entered into it."
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Carlos Ruiz Zafon
"In the haunted shade of the Ateneo, her hands wrote a curse on my skin that was to hound me for years."
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