Quote by: Elizabeth Hand

Endless longing; a face you'd known since childhood, since birth almost; a body that moved as though it were your own. These were things you never spoke of, things you never hoped for; things you could never admit to. Things you'd die for, and die of.


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Author Bio


  • NameElizabeth Hand
  • DescriptionAmerican writer
  • BornMarch 29, 1957
  • CountryUnited States Of America
  • ProfessionNovelist
  • AwardsNebula Award