What are stories for if we don't learn from them?
Unlike me, he realized that Dustfinger would do anything in return for such a promise. All he wants is to go back to his own world. He doesn't even stop to ask if his story there has a happy ending!We...
So Mo began filling the silence with words. He lured them out of the pages as if they had only been waiting for his voice, words long and short, words sharp and soft, cooing, purring words. They dance...
She is a real bookworm. I think she lives on print. Her whole house is full of books - looks as if she likes them better than human company.
Power. Intoxicating. Like a fine wine.
Oh, putrid puffballs! Stop winding us all up like this or I’ll tie a knot in your tail!
Odd that your heart didn’t simply stop when it hurt so much.
Mortimer! Orpheus produced a derisive smile, although with some difficulty. Is your head buried so deep in your wine jug that you don't know what's going on in this world of yours? He's not doing any...
Mo could paint pictures in the empty air with his voice alone.
Maybe love bore fruit even more poisonous than fear.
Let's run away to Venice, and hide out in an old movie theater. We can dye our hair blonde, so no one will ever find us!
I’m sorry, Silvertongue, but the fact is I don’t believe anyone. You ought to know that by now. We’re all liars when it serves our purpose.
It will be dark in a few hours, she said at last, anxiously. Suppose you don't finnish it in time? I have finnished! he snapped, irritated. I've finnished a dozen times already, but I'm not happy with...
Is there anything in the world better than words on the page? Magic signs, the voices of the dead, building blocks to make wonderful worlds better than this one, comforters, companions in loneliness....
He felt Death reaching out to him. But all of a sudden there was something else, too: words. Words that relieved the pain, cooled his brow, and spoke of love, nothing but love... It was his daughter's...
Fox could’ve kissed him on the mouth just to taste the smile on his lips. Forbidden. She’d almost forgotten.
Are you really going to catch us and take us back to Esther? We don’t belong to her, you know. Embarrassed, Victor stared at his shoes. Well, children all have to belong to somebody, he muttered. Do y...
All writers are insane!
Children, they're the same everywhere. Greedy little creatures but the best listeners in the world -any world. The very best of all.
What was she hoping to gain from his death? That it would numb the pain of his betrayal, or heal her injured pride? Her red sister didn't know much about love.