There is a proverbial saying chiefly concerned with warning against too closely calculating the numerical value of un-hatched chicks.
The right song can turn an emperor into a laughingstock, can bring down dynasties.
Everybody going to be dead one day, just give them time.
That’s the trouble with you young people. You think because you ain’t been here long, you know everything. In my life I already forgot more than you ever know.
A novel seemed the easiest way to get what I had had in my head into the inside of other people’s heads. Books are good that way.
Human beings do not like being pushed about by gods. They may seem to, on the surface, but somewhere on the inside, underneath it all, they sense it, and they resent it.
Belinda stared into the fire for some time, thinking about what she had in her life, and what she had given up; and whether it would be worse to love someone who was no longer there, or not to love someone who was.
Adventures are all very well in their place, but there’s a lot to be said for regular meals and freedom from pain.
Have been unavoidably detained by the world. Expect us when you see us.
If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boy and his dog and his friends. And a summer that never ends.
It sounded like a piece of blackboard being dragged over the nails of a wall of severed fingers.
If you were to try and pick him out of a group of boys, you’d be wrong. He’d be the other one. Over at the side. The one your eye slipped over.
An Angel who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards.
Tristan and Yvaine were happy together. Not forever-after, for Time, the thief, eventually takes all things into his dusty storehouse, but they were happy, as these things go, for a long while.
Coraline shivered. She preferred her other mother to have a location: if she were nowhere, then she could be anywhere. And, after all, it is always easier to be afraid of something you cannot see.
Where does contagion end and art begin?
All your questions can be answered, if that is what you want. But once you learn your answers, you can never unlearn them.
It begins, as most things begin, with a song.
Richard did not believe in angels, he never had. He was damned if he was going to start now. Still, it was much easier not to believe in something when it was not actually looking directly at you and saying your name.
I think I’ve got Fear down, but how do I take it all the way up to Terror?