Boys mystified me, although I dreamed vaguely of men. Elizabeth Kostova More Quotes by Elizabeth Kostova More Quotes From Elizabeth Kostova The heart does not go backward. Only the mind. Elizabeth Kostova minddoeheart Never before had I known the sudden quiver of understanding that travels from word to brain to heart, the way a new language can move, coil, swim into life under the eyes, the almost savage leap of comprehension, the instantaneous, joyful release of meaning, the way the words shed their printed bodies in a flash of heat and light. Elizabeth Kostova eyeheartmoving It was good to walk into a library again; it smelled like home. Elizabeth Kostova librarywalkshome When you handle books all day long, every new one is a friend and a temptation. Elizabeth Kostova temptationlongbook I believe in walking out of a museum before the paintings you've seen begin to run together. How else can you carry anything away with you in your mind's eye? Elizabeth Kostova eyerunningbelieve What comes to your mind when you think of the word Transylvania, if you ponder it at all? What comes to my mind are mountains of savage beauty, ancient castles, werewolves, and witches - a land of magical obscurity. How, in short, am I to believe I will still be in Europe, on entering such a realm? I shall let you know if it's Europe or fairyland, when I get there. First, Snagov - I set out tomorrow. Elizabeth Kostova europebelievethinking Recently abandoned women can be complicated. Elizabeth Kostova abandonedcomplicated It's funny; in this era of e-mail and voice mail and all those things that even I did not grow up with, a plain old paper letter takes on amazing intimacy. Elizabeth Kostova growing-upvoicepaper Today I will go to wait for her again, because I cannot help it, because my whole being seems now to be bound up in the being of one so different from myself and yet so exquisitely familiar that I can scarely understand what has happened. Elizabeth Kostova differentwaitingtoday The problem is simply finding the right person. Ask Plato. Just make sure she finishes your thoughts and you finish hers. That's all you need. Elizabeth Kostova problemplatoneeds It was not the brutality of what occurred next that changed my mind and brought home to me the full meaning of fear. It was the brilliance of it. Elizabeth Kostova brutalitymindhome There is nothing harder, at moments, than talking to someone who has all the power of silence. Elizabeth Kostova silencemomentstalking I was filled with angst in college, that I struggled with the question of my future, the meaning of my life - spoiled sheltered rich girl collides with great books and is devastated by her own banality. Elizabeth Kostova girlcollegebook As you know, human history is full of evil deeds, and maybe we ought to think of them with tears, not fascination. Elizabeth Kostova evillifethinking ...History it seemed could be something entirely different a splash of blood whose agony didn't fade overnight or over centuries. Elizabeth Kostova agonydifferentblood It's a shame for women's history to be all about men--first boys, then other boys, then men men men. It reminds me of the way our school history textbooks were all about wars and elections, one war after another, with the dull periods of peace skimmed over whenever they occurred. (Our teachers deplored this and added extra units about social history and protest movements, but that was still the message of the books.) Elizabeth Kostova teacherwarbook ...what will we someday do, I always wonder, without the pleasures of turning through books and stumbling on things we never meant to find? Elizabeth Kostova somedaywonderbook We Gypsies know that where Jews are killed, Gypsies are always murthered too. And then a lot of other people, usually. Elizabeth Kostova gypsyjewpeople Natalie Bakopoulos has that rare gift, the ability to imagine a traumatic historical event in the form of individual lives and ordinary details. The Green Shore is compelling, personal, and full of quietly real moments. Elizabeth Kostova eventshistoricalreal In those days, I still thoroughly enjoyed the romance I called "by myself"; I didn't know yet how it gets lonely, picks up a sharp edge later on that ruins a day now and then-- ruins more than that, if you're not careful. Elizabeth Kostova ruinsromancelonely
