Ingratitude is the frost that nips the flower even as it opens, that shrivels the generous apple on the branch, that freezes the fountain in mid-flow…

- Ann Wroe

Some sins have no season. We are as likely to be angry in November as to lose our rag in March ... There is, though, something autumnal about greed, …

- Ann Wroe

I got very keen on biography because I wanted to change it. I wanted to stretch the form. I think of it as a way of capturing souls.

- Ann Wroe