What good is a life lived as if it made no difference at all to the great life of the world? – Fool.
Everybody has felt at one time or another that everyone else in the world had a better shot than they did, so when you engage that, you engage the reader, and I think you create a character that brings the reader more fully into the story.
But a living is not a life.
Fitz: Shall we get up tomorrow and go looking for a wild pig? Nighteyes: I didn’t lose any wild pigs, did you?
Someday is someday, and maybe it will be or maybe it won’t. This is a human thing, to worry about things that may or may not come to be. You can’t eat meat until you’ve killed it.
Fitz: How bad is it? Nighteyes: Mind your own business. Fitz: You ARE my business. Nighteyes: Sharing pain doesn’t loosen it. Fitz: I’m not sure about THAT.
Not being able to think of a reply is not the same thing as accepting another’s words.
I was dressed up as a witch for Halloween, and wanted to write a story about my black cat before I went out trick-or-treating. I think it went out with the trash the next day.
I began reading everyhing in the family library. Kidnapped, Treasure Island, Robinson Crusoe. And of course, if you’re running out of books to read you can always read Shakespeare.
I began attempting to write for children under the mistaken assumption that writing for children was easy.
Men cannot grieve as dogs do. But they grieve for many years.
I do not know whom I wish to win; until I do, I will let no player be eliminated.
Most prisons are of our own making. A man makes his own freedom, too.
To be part of a family, or any community, is to have duties and responsibility, to be bound by the rules of that group.
When you spring to an idea, and decide it is truth, without evidence, you blind yourself to other possibilities.
Do you do this because you live such short lives? Tell yourselves wild tales of what might happen tomorrow, and feel all the feelings of events that will never happen? Perhaps to make up for the pasts you cannot recall, you invent futures that will not exist.
Wolves have no kings.
You seek a false comfort when you demand that I define myself for you with words. Words do not contain or define any person. A heart can, if it is willing.
Very little about being a writer is signing an autograph. It’s sitting in a room and writing. Getting it out.
We are as we are. How can you claim to know what life I was meant to lead, let alone threaten to force me into it? All your quibbling is nonsense. As well forbid your nose to snuff, or your ears to hear. We are as we do.