Top 500 Donna Tartt Quotes (2024 Update)
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301. “People don’t pay attention to ninety percent of what they see.”

— Donna Tartt

302. “Bunny put away his copy of The Bride of Fu Manchu and started carrying around a volume of Homer instead.”

— Donna Tartt

303. “All of a sudden, images from every crime movie I’d ever seen began to pop into my mind – the windowless room, the harsh lights and narrow hallways, images which did not seem so much theatrical or foreign as imbued with the indelible quality of memory, of experience lived.”

— Donna Tartt

304. “I felt like a lifetime had come and gone since my night with Pippa and I thought how happy I’d been, rushing to meet her in the sharp-edged winter darkness, my elation at spotting her under a streetlamp out in front of Film Forum and how I’d stood on the corner to savor it – the joy of watching her watch for me. Her expectant watching-the-crowd face. Me she was watching for: me. And the heart-shock of believing, for only a moment, that you might just have what could never be yours.”

— Donna Tartt

305. “And as much as I’d like to believe there’s a truth beyond illusion, I’ve come to believe that there’s no truth beyond illusion. Because, between ‘reality’ on the one hand, and the point where the mind strikes reality, there’s a middle zone, a rainbow edge where beauty comes into being, where two very different surfaces mingle and blur to provide what life does not: and this is the space where all art exists, and all magic.”

— Donna Tartt

306. “It made me feel less mortal, less ordinary. It was support and vindication; it was sustenance and sum. It was the keystone that held the whole cathedral up. And it was awful to learn, by having it so suddenly vanish from under me, that all my adult life I’d been privately sustained by that great, hidden, savage joy: the conviction that my whole life was balanced atop a secret that might at any movement blow me part.”

— Donna Tartt

307. “But, if I dare say it, it wasn’t until I had helped kill a man that I realized how elusive and complex an act a murder can actually be, and not necessarily attributable to one dramatic motive.”

— Donna Tartt

308. “I – ” At her tone, at once intimate and formal, a terrible sadness came over me, and when we looked at each other it seemed that the whole past was redefined and brought into focus by this moment, clear as glass, a complexity of stillness that was rainy afternoons in spring, a dark chair in the hallway, the light-as-air touch of her hand on the back of my head.”

— Donna Tartt

309. “In Paradise Lost he pushes English to its very limits but I think no language without noun cases could possibly support the structural order he attempts to impose.”

— Donna Tartt

310. “Joan of Arc had led armies when she was hardly older than Harriet. Yet, for Christmas last year, Harriet’s father had given Harriet an insulting board game for girls called What Shall I Be? It was a particularly flimsy game, meant to offer career guidance but no matter how well you played, it offered only four possible futures: teacher, ballerina, mother, or nurse.”

— Donna Tartt

311. “Though he didn’t treat them as equals – he didn’t treat anyone as an equal, actually – neither did he resort to the condescending friendliness of the wealthy.”

— Donna Tartt

312. “Taking on challenging projects is the way that one grows and extends one’s range as a writer, one’s technical command, so I consider the time well-spent.”

— Donna Tartt

313. “I am sorry, as well, to present such a sketchy and disappointing exegesis of what is in fact the central part of my story.”

— Donna Tartt

314. “It was a myth you couldn’t function on opiates: shooting up was one thing but for someone like me-jumping at pigeons beating from the sidewalk, afflicted with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder practically to the point of spasticity and cerebral palsy-pills were the key to being not only competent, but high-functioning.”

— Donna Tartt

315. “La belleza es terror. Temblamos ante todo lo que llamamos bello.”

— Donna Tartt

316. “Adrift in an air of charged significance, doubt struck me: was it a real memory, had he really spoken those words to me, or was I dreaming?”

— Donna Tartt

317. “Goyen there. Sadly not for sale.” “Van Goyen? I would have sworn that was a Corot.” “From here, yes, you might.” He was pleased at the comparison. “Very similar painters – Vincent.”

— Donna Tartt

318. “Understand, by saying ‘God,’ I am merely using ‘God’ as reference to long-term pattern we can’t decipher.”

— Donna Tartt

319. “He looked very tired, a regard which manifested itself not in dark circles, or pallor, but a dreamy and bright-cheeked sadness.”

— Donna Tartt

320. “Lying awake, I tried to recall all my best memories of her – to freeze her in my mind so I wouldn’t forget her – but instead of birthdays and happy times I kept remembering things like how a few days before she was killed she’d stopped me halfway out the door to pick a thread off my school jacket.”

— Donna Tartt

321. “Charles Portis shows his mastery of place and the more complicated subtleties of time.”

— Donna Tartt

322. “Even if you don’t like Poe – he invented the detective story. And science fiction. In essence, he invented a huge part of the twentieth century.”

— Donna Tartt

323. “From his genial cursing, his infrequent shaving, the relaxed way he talked around the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, it was almost as if he were playing a character: some cool guy from a fifties noir or maybe Ocean’s Eleven, a lazy, sated gangster with not much to lose. Yet even in the midst of his new laid-backness he still had that crazed and slightly heroic look of schoolboy insolence, all the more stirring since it was drifting towards autumn, half-ruined and careless of itself.”

— Donna Tartt

324. “Every single day for the rest of my life, she would only be further away.”

— Donna Tartt

325. “All those years I’d drifted along too glassy and insulated for any kind of reality to push through: a delirium which had spun me along on its slow, relaxed wave since childhood, high and lying on the shag carpet in Vegas laughing at the ceiling fan, only I wasn’t laughing any more, Rip van Winkle wincing and holding his head on the ground about a hundred years too late.”

— Donna Tartt

326. “We looked at each other. And it occurred to me that despite his faults, which were numerous and spectacular, the reason I’d liked Boris and felt happy around him from almost the moment I’d met him was that he was never afraid. You didn’t meet many people who moved freely through the world with such a vigorous contempt for it and at the same time such oddball and unthwartable faith in what, in childhood, he had liked to call “the Planet of Earth.”

— Donna Tartt

327. “Even more terrible, as we grow older, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us. Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that’s why we’re so anxious to lose them, don’t you think?”

— Donna Tartt

328. “It never occurred to me that half of the population of Vermont wasn’t experiencing pretty much what I put myself through every night- bone-crackling cold that made my joints ache, cold so relentless I felt it in my dreams: ice floes, lost expeditions, the lights of search planes swinging over whitecaps as I floundered alone Arctic Seas.”

— Donna Tartt

329. “Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely?”

— Donna Tartt

330. “Children – if you think back really what it was like to be a child and what it was like to know other children – children lie all the time.”

— Donna Tartt

331. “A truck shot past in a whine of spray.”

— Donna Tartt

332. “She was the Queen who finished out the suit of dark Jacks, dark King and Joker.”

— Donna Tartt

333. “For weeks, I’d been frozen, sealed-off; now, in the shower, I would turn up the water as hard as it would go and howl, silently. Everything was raw and painful and confusing and wrong and yet it was as if I’d been dragged from freezing water through a break in the ice, into sun and blazing cold.”

— Donna Tartt

334. “Well – think about this. What if all your actions and choices, good or bad, made no difference to God? What if the pattern is pre-set? No no – hang on – this is a question worth struggling with. What if our badness and mistakes are the very thing that set our fate and bring us round to good? What if, for some of us, we can’t get there any other way?”

— Donna Tartt

335. “There’s no ‘rational grounds’ for anything I care about.”

— Donna Tartt

336. “It’s hard for me to show work while I’m writing, because other people’s comments will influence what happens.”

— Donna Tartt

337. “Life: vacant, vain, intolerable. What loyalty did I owe it? None whatsoever.”

— Donna Tartt

338. “Mr. Dial grinned. His small teeth, his wide-set eyes and his bulging forehead – plus his habit of looking at the class in profile, rather than straight on – gave him the slight aspect of an unfriendly dolphin.”

— Donna Tartt

339. “I prefer to think of it as redistribution of matter.”

— Donna Tartt

340. “In order for a long piece of work to engage a novelist over an extended period of time, it has to deal with questions that you find very important, that you’re trying to work out.”

— Donna Tartt

341. “And as the light flickered over it in bands, I had the queasy sense of my own life, in comparison, as a patternless and transient burst of energy, a fizz of biological static just as random as the street lamps flashing past.”

— Donna Tartt

342. “I think romantics are frequently the best classicists. He laughed. “The great romantics are often failed classicists. But that’s beside the point, isn’t it?”

— Donna Tartt

343. “My novels aren’t really generated by a single conceptual spark; it’s more a process of many different elements that come together unexpectedly over a long period of time.”

— Donna Tartt

344. “We being round thee, forget to die.”

— Donna Tartt

345. “A sunstruck instant that existed now and forever.”

— Donna Tartt

346. “Viewed from a distance, his character projected an impression of solidity and wholeness which was in fact as insubstantial as a hologram; up close, he was all motes and light, you could pass your hand right through him. If you stepped back far enough, however, the illusion would click in again and there he would be, bigger than life, squinting at you from behind his little glasses and raking back a dank lock of hair with one hand.”

— Donna Tartt

347. “Wrap it in newspapers and pack it at the very bottom of the trunk, my dear. With the other curiosities.”

— Donna Tartt

348. “But poor Andy – even before he was skipped ahead a grade – had always been a chronically picked-upon kid: scrawny, twitchy, lactose-intolerant, with skin so pale it was almost transparent, and a penchant for throwing out words like ‘noxious’ and ‘chthonic’ in casual conversation.”

— Donna Tartt

349. “Now searchers have departed, and life has grown quiet around me, I have come to realize that while for years I might have imagined myself to be somewhere else, in reality I have been there all the time: up at the the top by the muddy wheel-ruts in the new grass, where the sky is dark over the shivering apple blossoms and the first chill of the snow that will fall that night is already in the air.”

— Donna Tartt

350. “Probably I’ll be dead soon.”

— Donna Tartt