Alan Bradley Quotes

A collection of quotes by Alan Bradley.

Alan Bradley is an acclaimed Canadian author known for his mystery novels. He was born in 1938 and began his career as a television engineer. However, it wasn't until later in life that he pursued his true passion for writing. In 2006, he gained wide recognition with the publication of his debut novel "The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie," introducing the clever and witty character Flavia de Luce. Bradley's books have since become bestsellers, earning him numerous awards and a dedicated fan base. Unfortunately, further details about his personal life are unknown.

I dreamt of turrets and craggy ledges where the windswept ra

I dreamt of turrets and craggy ledges where the windswept rain blew in from the ocean with the odor of violets. A pale woman in Elizabethan dress stood beside my bed and whispered in my ear that the bells would ring. An old salt in an oilcloth jacket sat atop a piling, mending nets with an awl, while far out at sea a tiny aeroplane winged its way towards the setting sun.

What intrigued me more than anything else was finding out th

What intrigued me more than anything else was finding out the way in which everything, all of creation - all of it! - was held together by invisible chemical bonds, and I found a strange, inexplicable comfort in knowing that somewhere, even though we couldn't see it in our own world, there was a real stability.

Science Chemical Stability Nerdiness

I visualized myself pulling on my mental thinking cap, jammi

I visualized myself pulling on my mental thinking cap, jamming it down around my ears as I had taught myself to do. It was a tall, conical wizard's model, covered with chemical equations and formulae: a cornucopia of ideas.

Humor Funny Intelligence Inspirational

Not to be too dramatic about it, that night I slept the slee

Not to be too dramatic about it, that night I slept the sleep of the damned. I dreamt of turrets and craggy ledges where the windswept rain blew in from the ocean with the odor of violets. A pale woman in Elizabethan dress stood beside my bed and whispered in my ear that the bells would ring. An old salt in an oilcloth jacket sat atop a piling, mending nets with an awl, while far out at sea a tine aeroplane winged its way towards the setting sun.

Mystery Drama Dream Damned Dramatic Flavia