A fondness for martyrdom, especially of the verbal variety, is common to the young.
BARBARA MERTZTo argue without knowledge is like trying to weave without thread.
More Barbara Mertz Quotes
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Writing is like a bird-watcher watching for birds: the stories are there: you just have to train yourself to look for them.
BARBARA MERTZ -
When men start talking about ‘honor’, there is sure to be trouble ahead.
BARBARA MERTZ -
No woman really wants a man to carry her off; she only wants him to want to do it.
BARBARA MERTZ -
When emotion supersedes reason … gullibility must follow.
BARBARA MERTZ -
Humor is an excellent method of keeping a tight rein on unproductive displays of emotion.
BARBARA MERTZ -
The only people who are not in awe of Emerson’s powerful voice and well-nigh superhuman strength are the members of his own family. He is aware of this, and often complains about it; so from time to time I like to put on a little show of being intimidated. ‘Proceed, my dear,’ I said apologetically.
BARBARA MERTZ -
The trouble with unknown enemies is that they are so difficult to identify.
BARBARA MERTZ -
You are softening toward the young rascal because he is ill, and because he says he likes cats.” “It is an engaging quality, Emerson.” “That depends,” said Emerson darkly, “on how he likes them.
BARBARA MERTZ -
The opportunity to lecture had restored my good humor.
BARBARA MERTZ -
a church ought to express the joy of religion as well as its majesty.
BARBARA MERTZ -
I would not be at all surprised to find that it was for gold that Cain committed the first murder. (It happened a very long time ago, and Holy Writ, though no doubt divinely inspired, is a trifle careless about details. God is not a historian).
BARBARA MERTZ -
Sometimes the characters develop almost without your knowing it. You find them doing things you hadn’t planned on, and then I have to go back to page 42 and fix things. I’m not recommending it as a way to write. It’s very sloppy, but it works for me.
BARBARA MERTZ -
It was hate at first sight, clean, pure and strong as grain alcohol.
BARBARA MERTZ -
In the silence I heard Bastet, who had retreated under the bed, carrying on a mumbling, profane monologue. (If you ask how I knew it was profane, I presume you have never owned a cat.)
BARBARA MERTZ -
He hesitated for a moment. Then he said softly, “I love you, Mother.” He took my hand and kissed it, and folded my fingers round the stem of the rose. He had stripped it of its thorns.
BARBARA MERTZ






