Olive looked over at the painting. 'Say you do show the world. But the world might not like it. Think of that. All those hours, all those days and months- years, even-'
'But I would like it, so it would not be important.' 'So why bother trying to please the world in the first place? And, I can assure you, you will never truly like it, if you do it yourself.' p.109
'All right, I know that's vague. It's just- it feels as if there's a place, a shining citadel of perfection I have in my mind. And with each canvas and sketchbook, I'm inching closer and closer to it, to the place where my paintings will be a better reflection of the person I am, a different reflection. And I will fly.' p.109
Olive stared in silence. She and her mother was recognizable, but their eyes had been made gauzy, their lips had a generic redness. Behind their heads were strange nimbuses of light, and beyond that, a plain green background.
There was no humor, no spirit or power, no exciting use of colour or line, no originality, no intangible magic. No hint of secrets, no play, no story. It wasn't terrible . It was two women on the front of a Christmas card. p.201-p.202
I won't let anything happen to you. You can trust me, I promise.' Teresa smiled, amazed to hear her own words being spoken back to her, the second half of the same spell. p.262
Her expression grew distracted as she began to draw away from the outer elements of the room and closer to her artistic vision. Teresa was locked out of it, and yet she felt the source of it. She willingly sank into this phantom role, where she could disappear and be anything Olive wanted. She had never felt so invisible, and yet so seen. p.269
I am famous in Paris, a city I have never even seen. I paint portraits of own face I have never even seen. You are stealing me, Olive. I feel like I am become invisible, the more visible I become.' p.277
I-get scared,' I said. 'I don't know how else to explain it. I get feelings that I'm lost, that I'm no good, that if someone likes me there must be something wrong with them.' p.302
Olive Schloss deserved her artist’s triumph, Lawrie deserved to know the whole story - but is there ever such a thing as a whole story, or an artist’s triumph, a right way to look through the glass? It all depends where the light falls. p.438
中譯本：打字機上的繆思
#不讀會死
p.106
'So why bother trying to please the world in the first place? And, I can assure you, you will never truly like it, if you do it yourself.'
p.109
p.109
p.179
p.201-p.202
Teresa smiled, amazed to hear her own words being spoken back to her, the second half of the same spell.
p.262
p.269
p.277
p.302
p.381
p.424
p.438
因此即便故事是傷心的，卻不覺得悲慘。
繆思是無法掌握的，是乍現的，突然就在荒蕪的地方發出光芒。繆思是引領你的靈感，像一條極細的金色絲線牽引你看到早就相連的命運。