Kate Atkinson
Kate Atkinson
Kate Atkinson, MBEis an award-winning English writer. She won the Whitbread Book of the Year prize in 1995 and, under its new name the Costa Book Awards, in 2013 and 2015 in the Novels category...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionAuthor
Become such as you are, having learned what that is.
dog believe said
She doesn't believe in dogs," Bridget said. "Dogs are hardly an article of faith," Sylvie said.
father school class
My father was an autodidact. It wasn't a middle-class house. Shopkeepers are aspirant. He paid for me to go to private school. He was denied an education - he had a horrible childhood. He got a place at a grammar school and wasn't allowed to go.
writing museums awards
I had a novel in the back of my mind when I won an Ian St James story competition in 1993. At the award ceremony an agent asked me if I was writing a novel. I showed her four or five chapters of what would become 'Behind the Scenes at the Museum' and to my surprise she auctioned them off.
reading reading-novels novel
Sylvie’s knowledge, like Izzie's, was random yet far-ranging, ‘The sign that one has acquired one’s learning from reading novels rather than an education…
baby politician born
He was born a politician. No, Ursula thought, he was born a baby, like everyone else. And this is what he has chosen to become.
gratitude mistake sometimes
Sometimes,' Sylvie said, 'one can mistake gratitude for love.
yesterday long long-time-ago
It was a long time ago now. And it was yesterday.
adventure race endurance
Why is everything an 'adventure' with you?" Sylvie said irritably to Izzie." "Because life is an adventure, of course." "I would say it was more of an endurance race," Sylvie said. "Or an obstacle course.
children reading reality
Fairy tales opened up a door into my imagination - they don't conform to the reality that's around you as a child. I started reading when I was three and read everything, but I wanted to be an actress.
past rubies boards
Patricia embraces me on the station platform. 'The past is what you leave behind in life, Ruby,' she says with the smile of a reincarnated lama. 'Nonsense, Patricia,' I tell her as I climb on board my train. 'The past's what you take with you.
loneliness solitude conundrums
Ursula craved solitude but she hated loneliness, a conundrum that she couldn’t even begin to solve.
beautiful morning cutting
When you chopped logs with the ax and they split open they smelled beautiful, like Christmas. But when you split someone's head open it smelled like abattoir and quite overpowered the scent of the wild lilacs you'd cut and brought into the house only this morning, which was already another life.
waiting realizing feels
I feel as if I’m waiting for something dreadful to happen, and then I realize it already has.