Quotes by Elizabeth Kostova

-Do you think artists are supposed to be happy? -Everyone is supposed to be. -I said staunchly,and I knew that I was indeed an idiot and that was my destiny and I didnt mind it

Ao sairmos para o anoitecer dourado das ruas bizantinas, refleti como era estranho que, mesmo sob as circunstâncias mais extraordinárias, durante episódios mais perturbadores da vida, nos lugares mais distantes de casa e de tudo que nos é familiar, possam existir esses momentos de incontestável alegria.

Faith is simply whatever is real to us.

My guess is that he remembers some of me, some of us together, and the rest rolled off him like topsoil in a flash flood.

It was good to walk into a library again it smelled like home.

When you handle books all day long, every new one is a friend and a temptation.

You are a total stranger and you want to take my library book.

And how could anyone consent to give up the smell of open books, old or new?

Recently abandoned women can be complicated.

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.

I believe in walking out of a museum before the paintings youve seen begin to run together. How else can you carry anything away with you in your minds eye?

As a historian, I have learned that, in fact, not everyone who reaches back into history can survive it. And it is not only reaching back that endangers us; sometimes history itself reaches inexorably forward for us with its shadowy claws.

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.

Its a shame for a womans 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 when they happened.

... I grant you that anyone who pokes around in history long enough may well go mad.

To you, perceptive reader, I bequeath my history.

I like a puzzle, as you know. So does every scholar worth his salt. Its the reward of the business, to look history in the eye and say, I know who you are. You cant fool me.

The problem is simply finding the right person. Ask Plato. Just make sure she finishes your thoughts and you finish hers. Thats all you need.

It was strange, I reflected.. that even in the weirdest circumstances, the most troubling episodes of ones life, the greatest divides from home and familiarity, there were these moments of undeniable joy.

It touched me to be trusted with something terrible.