Some things can be both real and imaginary at the same time, . . . some lies can be true, . . . broken faith may be restored.
This is something different again. A feeling of peace. The feeling you get when a recipe turns out perfectly right, a perfectly risen souffle, a flawless sauce hollandaise. It's a feeling which tells...
Sometimes survival is the worst alternative there is
Sticks and stones may break my bones’, as they say in the Middle Worlds, but with the right words you can build a world and make yourself the king of it.
That wind. I see it's blowing now. Furtive but commanding, it has dictated every move we've ever made. My mother felt it, and so do I - even here, even now - as it sweeps us like leaves into his backs...
That's Catholicism for you. A perpetual war between repression and excess.
The air is hot and rich with the scent of chocolate. Quite unlike the white powdery chocolate I knew as a boy, this has a throaty richness like the perfumed beans from the coffee stall on the market,...
The battle of good and evil reduced to a fat woman standing in front of a chocolate shop, saying, Will I? Won’t I? in pitiful indecision.
The day stretched out in front of him like an empty road in the desert.
The dead know everything but they don't give a damn.
The process of giving is without limits.
The process of writing is a little like madness, a kind of possession not altogether benign.
The real magic - the magic we'd lived with all our lives, my mother's magic of charms and cantrips, of salt by the door and a red silk sachet to placate the little gods - had turned sour on us that su...
You see, I do believe in miracles. I, who have passed through fire. I do believe.
The wind always brings us back to the same wall
Their love was something which coloured the air between them like sunlight.
There was a quote he could not quite remember, something about the past being an island surrounded by time. He had missed the last boat to the island.
There were a few compensations to having corporeal Aspect. Food (jam tarts were my favourites); drink (mostly wine and mead); setting things on fire; sex (although I was still extremely confused by al...
There's something very comforting about the ritual of jam-making. It speaks of cellars filled with preserves; of neat rows of jars on pantry shelves. It speaks of winter mornings and bowls of , with t...
There’s an old Northlands saying that goes like this: When lies don’t help. try telling the truth. Loki knew it well, of course, but preferred his own version, which was: When lies don’t help, tell be...
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