Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell Quotes

“So many people dead, just to find my name," sighed Stephen.”

“Bell," he said, "do not wear black. Do not be a widow. Be happy. That is how I wish to think of you.”

“Wikipedia: Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell”

“England is full of magicians. Hundreds! Thousands perhaps! Norrell refused them. Norrell denied them. Norrell silenced them. but they are magicians nonetheless.”

“Some years ago there was in the city of York a society of magicians. They met upon the third Wednesday of every month and read each other long, dull papers upon the history of English magic.”

“It was a superior sort of shop with an uncluttered interior and elegant modern chairs for the customers to sit upon; in fact is was so very refined an establishment that is was by no means clear what it sold.”

“Drawlight had the strangest feeling. It was something he had felt before when magic was about to happen. Invisible doors seemed to be opening all around him; winds blew on him from far away, bringing scents of woods, moors and bogs.”

“- she bore so many of the signs and disfigurings of extreme old age that she was losing her resemblance to other human beings and began instead to resemble other orders of living creatures. Her arms lay in her lap, so extravagantly spotted with brown that they were like two fish.”

“You are a magician, sir?" said Mrs Wintertowne. "I am sorry to hear it. It is a profession I have a particular dislike to." She looked keenly at him as she said so, as though her disapproval might in itself be enough to make him renounce magic instantly and take up some other occupation.”

“"Tree speaks to stone; stone speaks to water. It is not so hard as we have supposed. Tell them to read what is written in the sky. Tell them to ask the rain! All of John Uskglass's old alliances are still in place. I am sending messengers to remind the stones and the sky and the rain of their ancient promises."”

“A lovely young Italian girl passed by. Byron tilted his head to a very odd angle, half-closed his eyes and composed his features to suggest that he was about to expire from chronic indigestion. Dr. Greysteel could only suppose that he was treating the young woman to the Byronic profile and the Byronic expression.”

“5There are very few modern magician who do not declare themselves to be either Strangite or Norrellite, the only notable exception being John Childermass himself. Whenever he is asked he claims to be in some degree both. As this is like claiming to be both a Whig and Tory at the same time, no one understands what he means.”

“Mr. Norrell, thought confident now that his guest was no great magician or a great magician's servant, was still not much inclined to take Childermass's advice. His invitation to Mr Drawlight to sit down at the breakfast-table and take some chocolate was the coldest sort. But slky silences and black looks had no effect upon Mr Drawlight whatsoever, since he filled up the silences with his own chatter and was too accustoned to black looks to mind them.”

“²The Great church at York is both a cathedral (meaning the church where the throne of the bishop or archbishop is housed) and a minster (meaning a church founded by a missionary in ancient times). It has borne both these names at different periods. In early centuries it was more usualy called the Minster, but nowadays the people of York perfer the term Cathedral as one which elevates their church above those of the nearby towns of Ripon and Beverly. Piopn and Beverly have minsters, but no cathedrals.”

“Long, long ago, (said the voice,) five hundred years ago or more, on a winter's day at twilight, a young man entered the Church with a young girl with ivy leaves in her hair. There was no one else there but the stones. No one to see him strangle her but the stones. He let her fall dead upon the stones and no one saw but the stones. He was never pnished for his sin because there were no witnesses but the stones. The years went by and whenever the man entered the church and stood among the congregation the stones cried out that this was the man who had murdered the girl with ivy leaves wound into her hair, but no one ever heard us. But it is not too late! We know where he is buried! Pull up the paving stones. Dig up his bones! Let them be snashed with the shovel! Dash his skull against the pillars and brak it!Let the stones have vengeance too! It is not too late! It is not too late!”