Top 25 Quotes & Sayings by Christopher Fowler

Explore popular quotes and sayings by an English writer Christopher Fowler.
Christopher Fowler

Christopher Fowler is an English thriller writer. While working in the British film industry he became the author of fifty novels and short-story collections, including the Bryant & May mysteries, which record the adventures of two Golden Age detectives in modern-day London. His awards include the 2015 CWA Dagger in the Library, The Last Laugh Award (twice) and the British Fantasy Award, the Edge Hill Prize and the inaugural Green Carnation Award. His other works include screenplays, video games, graphic novels, audio and stage plays. He was born in Greenwich, London. He lives in Barcelona and King's Cross, London.

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Abandoned Accents Adventures Advertising Advertising Agency Afternoon Agency Amusement Angels Appears Hide All Approaches Arthur Author Back Back Home Beautiful Beautifully Bedroom Began Believers Bill Blown Blown Away Books Borrowed Bother Brain Brilliant Brings British Built By The Time Cash Categories Celebrities Child Chose Christie Christmas City Cleverness Cliches Clockwork Clutter Coffee Coffee Shop Colonies Comfort Comfortable Complex Conan Conceived Concept Concerned Constructed Consulting Count Crime Curiosity Dark Days Demographic Designed Detailed Detective Devils Difference Discussed Dismissed Divide Dogs Dracula Drama Drawings Dream Dress Dysfunctional Dysfunctional Family Elderly Endless Epic Escape Ethnic Every Time Exposure Fabric Faces Failure Falling Falling Apart Familiar Familiar Faces Family Famous Father Fear Felt Festivities Fiction Field Figures Filled Films Form Found Frail Frame Franchise Fresh Friends Genre Give Glad Glass Good Gothic Grammar Grammar School Granddaddy Grim Grip Groups Hammer Handle Harmful Harold Hate Healthy Holmes Home House Human Human Brain I Hate Ideas Imagination Instruments Investigator Joyous Kind Knocks Knowing Laptops Largely Lawyers Left Life Life Is Life Is A Lines Literary Lives Local London Long Long Gone Lost Loved Masters Material Means Melancholy Mental Minor Missing Monday Money Mornings Muscular My Friends Nanny Neat Nerd Newman No Money North Notice Oedipus Old Photographs Original Pages Paid Parking Passed Past Personality Personality Disorder Personality Disorders Philip Photographs Physical Pipes Plot Police Possess Post Post-War Pottery Present Problem Provide Puppets Queen Quirks Rain Rawness Reached Read Reading Ready Real Reality Reality TV Regarded Room School Scientific Scripted Sense Sexual Shadows Shared Sherlock Holmes Shop Show Show Off Sign Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Sixth Skills Smoking Social Social Fabric South Speaking Stack Stars Started State Stoker Strange Strange Days Street Streets Talent Television Term Terribly Theatre Thing Things Throw Thursday Tics Time Times Torn Towns Traffic Training True University Unloved Unwanted Vampire Very Beautiful Wake Wake Up Wardens Warning Wheels Windmills Wooden Work Worked Writers Less More Hide All See All
By the time I reached the sixth form at my local grammar school, my father would glower at me every time I passed him with a stack of books under my arm, warning me there was no money to go to university.
My bedroom was filled with reading material: books salvaged from dustbins, books borrowed from friends, books with missing pages, books found in the street, abandoned, unreadable, torn, scribbled on, unloved, unwanted and dismissed. My bedroom was the Battersea Dogs' Home of books.
My father Bill had a problem with Christmas. Although he appears in old photographs to possess a whippy, muscular frame, he was actually a frail man and usually managed to cause some kind of drama just before the festivities began.
Reality TV has blown away the need for a roster of familiar faces in films. Plus, films became franchise and didn't need stars. But the real difference between stars and celebrities is that stars have training and talent, and celebrities just have exposure.
Broadly speaking, there are two approaches to crime: the realistically detailed police procedural, usually grim and downbeat, and the more left-field, joyous theatre of ideas in which past masters once specialised. Knowing that I would never be able to handle the former, I set about reviving the latter.
I don't divide my reading into demographic categories, any more than I'd divide my friends into groups along ethnic or sexual lines. The thing I look for most is a sense of literary rawness - bareback fiction, if you will.
Too many new writers dress up old cliches. — © Christopher Fowler
Too many new writers dress up old cliches.
I didn't bother with television myself because it consisted largely of windmills, puppets and pottery wheels, interspersed with elderly men smoking pipes while they discussed Harold Macmillan in Old Etonian accents.
I have never met an author who did not read voraciously as a child.
When Sir Arthur Conan Doyle conceived Sherlock Holmes, why didn't he give the famous consulting detective a few more quirks: a wooden leg, say, and an Oedipus complex? Well, Holmes didn't need many physical tics or personality disorders; the very concept of a consulting detective was still fresh and original in 1887.
I consider myself a kind of a nerd, because when we go to the coffee shop in the mornings, we sit there in a very neat row with our laptops. It's just like being at work, but with coffee and panini. And, of course, you don't get paid.
For me, imagination would always provide a means of escape.
There's a melancholy sense of things lost in the shabbier British seaside towns; of comfortable failure and better times long gone.
As a child marooned in a post-war South London backwater with no ready cash and a bafflingly dysfunctional family, I had to glean my amusement wherever I could.
I left school on a wet Thursday afternoon, found a room in a shared house in North London, and started my first job on the following Monday as a courier for an advertising agency.
My father worked in a scientific lab where he designed and built glass instruments. He was regarded as brilliant at his job and once constructed a human brain in glass just to show off his skills.
The queen of crime, Agatha Christie, was always more concerned about the clockwork cleverness of the plot, never the investigator.
I've always loved what I'd term 'dark fiction' writers, everyone from J. G. Ballard to Mervyn Peake and Philip Pullman. I'm not sure it's a genre, but it's what I like best.
[Believers] have joy and comfort-that joy that angels cannot give, and devils cannot take.
Clutter, either mental or physical, is the sign of a healthy curiosity.
Life is a very beautiful dream. I'm so glad I chose not to wake up from it just yet
I hate the endless admonishments of a nanny state that lives in fear of its lawyers. While colonies of dim-witted traffic wardens swarm about looking for minor parking infringements, nobody seems to notice that our very social fabric is falling apart.
Kim Newman brings Dracula back home in the granddaddy of all vampire adventures. Anno Dracula couldn't be more fun if Bram Stoker had scripted it for Hammer. It's a beautifully constructed Gothic epic that knocks almost every other vampire novel out for the count.
It was true that the city could still throw shadows filled with mystifying figures from its past, whose grip on the present could be felt on certain strange days, when the streets were dark with rain and harmful ideas.
The drawings are terribly good. — © Christopher Fowler
The drawings are terribly good.
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