Dame Muriel Sarah Spark DBE, CLit, FRSE, FRSL (née Camberg; 1 February 1918 – 13 April 2006) was a Scottish novelist, short story writer, poet and essayist.
I have a great desire to make people smile - not laugh. Laughter is too aggressive. People bare their teeth.
We often laughed at others in our house, and I picked up the craft of being polite while people were present and laughing later if there was anything to laugh about.
One's prime is elusive. You little girls, when you grow up, must be on the alert to recognize your prime at whatever time of your life it may occur. You must then live it to the full.
To me education is a leading out of what is already there in the pupil's soul.
The sacrifice of pleasures is of course itself a pleasure.
I often wonder if we were all characters in one of God's dreams.
Art and religion first; then philosophy; lastly science. That is the order of the great subjects of life, that's their order of importance.
Ridicule is the only honorable weapon we have left.
Give me a girl at an impressionable age and she is mine for life.
The letters of famous people can be placed into two categories: there is the type of letter which becomes itself a valuable contribution to literature through its wit, style or wisdom; another kind is that whose main importance lies in the provision of a background to their author's life. Especially in the correspondence of great writers and poets, these two factors are very often combined.
Let us run up debts. One is nobody without debts.
Fiction to me is a kind of parable. You have got to make up your mind it's not true. Some kind of truth emerges from it, but it's not fact.
It is one of the secrets of Nature in its mood of mockery that fine weather lays heavier weight on the mind and hearts of the depressed and the inwardly tormented than does a really bad day with dark rain sniveling continuously and sympathetically from a dirty sky.
Final perseverance is the doctrine that wins the eternal victory in small things as in great
It is impossible to repent of love. The sin of love does not exist.
we have invented sex guilt to take our minds off the real thing.
The words of the double-tongued are as if they were harmless, but they reach even to the inner part of the bowels. Praise be to the Lord, who distinguishes our cause and delivers us from the unjust and deceitful man.
Death, when it approaches, ought not to take one by surprise. It should be part of the full expectancy of life. Without an ever-present sense of death life is insipid.
everything happens to an artist; time is always redeemed, nothing is lost and wonders never cease.
Nothing can be more puritanical in application than the virtues.