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Quote by Karen Armstrong

“When the horror recedes and the world resumes its normal shape, you cannot forget it. You have seen what is "really" there, the empty horror that exists when the consoling illusion of our mundane experience is stripped away, so you can never respond to the world in quite the same way again." from Coleridge: Like one, that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows, a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread”

Quote by Karen Armstrong

Book:The Spiral Staircase: My Climb Out of Darkness
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Work

The Spiral Staircase: My Climb Out of Darkness

This memoir offers a candid look into the author's life, exploring the challenges faced and the resilience shown in overcoming darkness and adversity. more

Author

Karen Armstrong
Karen Armstrong

Karen Armstrong, born on November 14, 1944, is a renowned author and religious scholar. Her works cover a range of fields including religious history, philosophy, and ethics, and are praised for their insightful and accessible writing style as well as her respect for religious diversity. more

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Book:John Saturnall's Feast
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“As he lifted the leather-bound cover, the musty smell of paper rose up. He turned the first mottled leaf and looked down at an elaborately drawn image. A brimming goblet was decorated with curling vines and bunches of grapes. But instead of wine or water, the cup was filled with words. John stared at the alien symbols. He could not read. Around the goblet a strange garden grew. Honeycombs dripped and flowers like crocuses sprouted among thick-trunked trees. Vines draped themselves about their branches which bristled with leaves and bent under heavy bunches of fruit. In the far background John spied a roof with a tall chimney. His mother settled beside him. 'Palm trees...' she said. 'These are dates. Honey came from the hives and saffron came from these flowers. Grapes swelled on the vine...”

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Book:John Saturnall's Feast
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“Justin frowned. "Do I have to stay in the nursery? With the the babies?" “Darling, you’re four years old—” “Almost five!” Phoebe's lips quirked. There was a wealth of interest and empathy in the gaze she bent on her small son. “You may stay in my room, if you like,” she offered. The child was appalled by the suggestion. “I can’t sleep in your room,” he said indignantly. “Why not?” “People might think we were married!” West concentrated on a distant spot on the floor, struggling hold back a laugh. When he was able, he took a steadying breath and risked a glance at Lady Clare. To his secret delight, she appeared to be considering the point as if it were entirely valid.”

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Book:Devil's Daughter
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