Top 30 Penelope Lively Quotes

I’m writing another novel and I know what I’m going to do after, which may be something more like this again, maybe some strange mixture of fiction and non-fiction.

We all need a past – that’s where our sense of identity comes from.

I’m intrigued by the way in which physical appearance can often direct a person’s life; things happen differently for a beautiful woman than for a plain one.

There’s a preoccupation with memory and the operation of memory and a rather rapacious interest in history.

I have long been interested in landscape history, and when younger and more robust I used to do much tramping of the English landscape in search of ancient field systems, drove roads, indications of prehistoric settlement.

Getting to know someone else involves curiosity about where they have come from, who they are.

We read Greek and Norse mythology until it came out of our ears. And the Bible.

Every novel generates its own climate, when you get going.

Conventional forms of narrative allow for different points of view, but for this book I wanted a structure whereby each of the main characters contributed a distinctive version of the story.

Equally, we require a collective past – hence the endless reinterpretations of history, frequently to suit the perceptions of the present.

The present hardly exists, after all-it becomes the past even as it happens. A tricky medium, time – and central to the concerns of fiction.

It was a combination of an intense interest in children’s literature, which I’ve always had, and the feeling that I’d just have a go and see if I could do it.

You learn a lot, writing fiction.

The pleasure of writing fiction is that you are always spotting some new approach, an alternative way of telling a story and manipulating characters; the novel is such a wonderfully flexible form.

I’m not an historian and I’m not wanting to write about how I perceive the social change over the century as a historian, but as somebody who’s walked through it and whose life has been dictated by it too, as all our lives are.

We make choices but are constantly foiled by happenstance.

The consideration of change over the century is about loss, though I think that social change is gain rather than loss.

I’m now an agnostic but I grew up on the King James version, which I’m eternally grateful for.

I didn’t write anything until I was well over 30.

I’m not an historian but I can get interested – obsessively interested – with any aspect of the past, whether it’s palaeontology or archaeology or the very recent past.

I have had to empty two family homes during the last few years – first, the house that had been my grandmother’s since 1923, and then my own country home, which we had lived in for over twenty years.

I rather like getting away from fiction.

Deep down I have this atavistic feeling that really I should be in the country.

I can walk about London and see a society that seems an absolutely revolutionary change from the 1950s, that seems completely and utterly different, and then I can pick up on something where you suddenly see that it’s not.

I’ve always been fascinated by the operation of memory – the way in which it is not linear but fragmented, and its ambivalence.

All I know for certain is that reading is of the most intense importance to me; if I were not able to read, to revisit old favorites and experiment with names new to me, I would be starved – probably too starved to go on writing myself.

The Photograph is concerned with the power that the past has to interfere with the present: the time bomb in the cupboard.

I do like to embed a fictional character firmly in an occupation.

I didn’t want it to be a book that made pronouncements.

It seems to me that everything that happens to us is a disconcerting mix of choice and contingency.