Best 25 quotes of Kevin Ansbro on MyQuotes

A wind that howled like a drowning man.

Butterflies fluttered about him, as if they were extracting data.

Cluttered minds think alike.

For anyone with a library in their head and love in their heart,

Grief brings many false dawns, but a solicitude of normality will undoubtedly return.

...he slipped into the hallway with a second-hand paperback copy of 'The Mote in God's Eye' under one arm, intending to read it in a quiet corner of Misto's coffee shop. He deemed the book to have previously been read on a sultry tropical beach, given that its yellowed pages were as corrugated as a ploughed field.

I am nothing if not misanthropic," declared Sebastian. "I think you mean philanthropic," said Henry. "God, you are so perdantic." "That would be pedantic." "See! You're even perdantic about the word perdantic.

May the key of inspiration unlock your dungeon of creativity

May your talent always be greater than your heartache.

Mustering the figurative glint of light on Chekhov's broken glass, he gazed into the half-remembered irises of Florence's eyes and imagined her fingers, soft and delicate, against his cheek.

My muse is a restless genie, a conniving devil, a wanton mistress and a fairy godmother. At times he’s Othello’s Iago, at others he’s Clarence from 'It’s a Wonderful Life'.

Of course God exists. But God is no more a man than you are a snowflake.

Overhyped books are the empty calories of the literary world.

Pah! I wave my cuff at hindsight as if it were a bothersome fly. Life can only be lived forwards, Ulysses. All that matters is what you do now.

Sadly, there are writers who wouldn't know an umlaut from an omelet.

Smoky hills that loomed like ogres.

The oak trees had shed their leaves, revealing the inky thumbprints of crows' nests in the crackle glaze of dark branches.

There are but twenty-six letters in the English alphabet, yet I must have read a quadrillion words.

To master magical realism, one must make the real seem unreal but, more importantly, make the unreal seem real.

Ulysses found himself hopelessly adrift within the confines of a yew-hedge maze, the leaf tips of which were lit by a Communion-wafer moon that rested on the black tongue of night.

We each harbour a talent. It hibernates within us, snug yet eager, waiting for the first darling buds of opportunity to emerge.

When life gives you lemons, don't waste your time making lemonade.

Within the pages of books, I've journeyed to Mandalay, the Milky Way and Santa Fe.

Within the pages of books, I've journeyed to Mandalay, the Milky Way and Santa Fe, without once having to leave my armchair.

Writing should beguile us, not just take us from A to B to Zzzzz