Imagination is the golden-eyed monster that never sleeps. It must be fed; it cannot be ignored.
The odd thing about people who had many books was how they always wanted more.
Words, he decided, were inadequate at best, impossible at worst. They meant too many things. Or they meant nothing at all.
When you choose a man who thinks eight seconds is a long time, perhaps you need two of them. Hmm?
How strange to be in a dream one moment and in the world the next, and to know the difference in the blink of an eye.