There are people who can never go to Fantastica,” said Mr. Coreander, “and others who can, but who stay there forever. And there are just a few who fo to fantastica and come back. Like you. And they make both world well again.
One may enter the literary parlor via just about any door, be it the prison door, the madhouse door, or the brothel door. There is but one door one may not enter it through, which is the child room door. The critics will never forgive you such. The great Rudyard Kipling is one of a number of people to have suffered from this. I keep wondering to myself what this peculiar contempt towards anything related to childhood is all about.
Oh, nothing can happen more than once, but all things must happen one day.
Even when I was caught in the web, I didn’t give up hope. And as you see, I was right.
With them the individual counted for nothing. No one was irreplaceable, because they drew no distinction between one man and another... In this community there was harmony, but no love.
The House of Change... is bigger inside than out.
He’s a good old sort. If only he weren’t plumb crazy!
It was a wonderful feeling, a sense of release and boundless freedom that he had never known before. He was beyond the reach of all the things that had weighed him down and hemmed him in.
What he had hoped for was his ruin and what he had feared his salvation.
Most of the time she could slip into other people, so to speak, and discover what they really meant and who they actually were behind their words. But she couldn’t do it with this visitor. No matter how often she tried to understand his thoughts, she always got the feeling that she was falling into empty darkness, as if there weren’t even a person there at all.
One night I saw the moon, shining so big and round, and I tried to grab it out of the sky.
While progressing in this way, with a dirty street ahead of him and a clean one behind, he often had grand ideas. They were ideas that couldn’t easily be put into words, though – ideas as hard to define as a half-remembered scent or a colour seen in a dream.
Nothing can change for them, because they themselves can’t change anymore.
He was handsome and strong, but somehow that wasn’t enough for him. He also felt the need to be tough and inured to hardship... But how was he to come by that quality in this luminous garden, where all manner of fruit was to be had for the picking?
Wer keine Vergangenheit mehr hat, der hat auch keine Zukunft.
The Glory was entrusted to you, you weren’t given permission to pass it on as you see fit.
When it comes to controlling humans, there is no better instrument than lies.
Hay que contar siempre con lo peor, y luego hay que hacer contra ello todo lo que se pueda.
Your life is short, son. Ours is long. Much too long. But we both live in time. You a short time. We a long time. The Childlike Empress has always been there. But she’s not old. She has always been young. She still is. Her life isn’t measured by time, but by names. She needs a new name. She keeps needing new names.
Anyone who still thinks that listening is nothing special should simply try to do it half as well.