Quotes About The Glass Castle

“If you were my girlfriend I would give you a hundred lightning bugs in a green glass jar, so you could always see your way. I would give you a meadow full of wildflowers, where no two blooms would ever be alike. I would give you my bicycle, with its golden eye to protect you. I would write a story for you, and make you a princess who lived in a white marble castle. If you would only like me, I would give you magic. If you would only like me.”

— Robert McCammon

“What's going on?" Royce asked as throngs of people suddenly moved toward him from the field and the castle interior.
"I mentioned that you saw the thing and now they want to know what it looks like," Hadrian explained. "What did you think? They were coming to lynch you?"
He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm a glass-half-empty kinda guy."
"Half empty?" Hadrian chuckled. "Was there ever any drink in that glass?”

— Michael J. Sullivan

“When Dad wasn't telling us about all the amazing things he had already done, he was telling us about the wondrous things he was going to do. Like build the Glass Castle.”

— Jeannette Walls

“'The Glass Castle' by Jeannette Walls is the quintessential dysfunctional family.”

— Sara Shepard

“At three in the morning the gaudy paint is off that old whore, the world, and she has no nose and a glass eye. Gaiety becomes hollow and brittle, as in Poe's castle surrounded by the Red Death. Horror is destroyed by boredom. Love is a dream.”

— Stephen King

“He tilted back in the decaying lawn chair, almost went over on his back, and used up some more of his screwdriver. The screwdriver was in a glass he had gotten free from a McDonald's restaurant. There was some sort of purple animal on the glass. Something called a Grimace. Gary ate a lot of his meals at the Castle Rock McDonald's, where you could still get a cheap hamburger. Hamburgers were good. But as for the Grimace ... and Mayor McCheese ... and Monsieur Ronald Fucking McDonald ... Gary Pervier didn't give a shit for any of them.”

— Stephen King

“But they held tighter to each other, past and present and future; flickering between an ancient hall in a mountain castle perched above Orynth, a bridge suspended between glass towers, and another place, perfect and strange, where they had been crafted from stardust and light. A wall of night knocked them back. But they could not be contained. The darkness paused for breath. They erupted.”

— Sarah J. Maas

“The Crown Prince tipped his head back to the sky and roared, and it was the battle cry of a god. Then the glass castle shattered.”

— Sarah J. Maas

“You came back," He said, as if that were an answer.
They joined hands.
So the world ended.
And the next one began.
They were infinite.
They were the beginning and the ending; they were eternity.
The king standing before them gaped as the shield of flame died out to reveal Aelin and Dorian, hand in hand, glowing like newborn gods as their magic entwined.
"YOUR MINE," the man raged. He became darkness; folded himself into the powers he carried, as if he were nothing but malice on a dark wind.
He struck them, swallowed them.
But they held tighter to each other, past and present and future; flickering between an ancient hall in a mountain castle perched above Orynth, a bridge suspended between glass towers, and another place, perfect and strange, where they had been crafted from stardust and light.
A wall of night knocked them back. But they could not be contained.
The darkness paused for a breath.
They erupted.”

— Sarah J. Maas

“Kaltain Rompier unleashed her shadowfire upon them all.
This was not the ghost of shadowfire they had made her kill with-the reason why they had first approached her, lied to her when they invited her to that glass castle-but the real thing. The fire she had harbored since magic had returned-golden flame turned to black
The room became cinders.”

— Sarah J. Maas

“Kaltain flowed into the room, spreading her arms wide, and became shadowfire, became freedom and triumph, became a promise hissed in a dungeon beneath a glass castle:
Punish them all.”

— Sarah J. Maas

“We are like children building a sand castle. We embellish it with beautiful shells, bits of driftwood, and pieces of colored glass. The castle is ours, off limits to others. We're willing to attack if others threaten to hurt it. Yet despite all our attachment, we know that the tide will inevitably come in and sweep the sand castle away. The trick is to enjoy it fully but without clinging, and when the time comes, let it dissolve back into the sea.”

— Deirdre Blomfield Brown

“I love memoirs and biographies, learning about other people's lives. Two of the ones that I loved so much were actually edited by the same person who edited my book, too. I loved 'Angela's Ashes.' I loved 'Glass Castle' so much.”

— Isabel Gillies

“Nonethless it had been a castle, with all that this implies: it had had towering walls and turrets, beams as great as trees, arched doorways wide enough for processions to pass through, ceilings so cavernous that owls nested in them. It had had wings and ramparts and thin windows from which to shoot arrows, internal courtyards, banquet rooms, hidden doors, secret passages. It had had a chapel and, in its bowels, a dungeon. It housed sculptures and paintings, tapestries and cushions, carpets and carvings, its fortressed heart had been clad in glit, silver, glass, gold, damask, ivory, ermine.”

— Sonya Hartnett

“For a moment he came near to sharing their incredible belief-it would do no harm to mutter a prayer of thanks to the God of his childhood, the God of the Common and the castle, that no ill had yet come to Sarah's child. Then a sonic boom scattered the words of the hymn and shook the old glass of the west window and rattled the crusader's helmet which hung on a pillar, and he was reminded again of the grown-up world. He went quickly out and bought the Sunday papers. The Sunday Express had a headline on the front page-Child's Body Found in Wood.”

— Graham Greene

“Even when I'm sitting up in this glass castle, I still got my street soldiers telling me what's happening.”

— Tracy Morgan