You couldn’t leave words lying around where our enemies might find them.
You can’t buy it, but it has a price, said Oryx. Everything has a price.
You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs, is what he says. We thought we could do better.Better? I say, in a small voice. How can he think this is better?Better never means better for everyone...
You always do good ones. We trust you, Mr. Duke, Says Dylan. Foolish lads, thinks Felix: never trust a professional ham.
Women can't add, he once said, jokingly. When I asked him what he meant, he said, For them, one and one and one and one don't make four. What do they make? I said, expecting five or three. Just one an...
Without the light, no chance; without the dark, no dance.
Wild geese fly south, creaking like anguished hinges; along the riverbank the candles of the sumacs burn dull red. It's the first week of October. Season of woolen garments taken out of mothballs; of...
Why is war so much like a practical joke? she thinks. Hiding behind bushes, leaping out, with not much difference between Boo! and Bang! except the blood.
Why is war so much like a practical joke? she thinks. Hiding behind bushes, leaping out, with not much difference between Boo! and Bang! except the blood. The loser falls over with a scream, followed...
Why is it he feels some line has been crossed, some boundary transgressed? How much is too much, how far is too far?
Why do you want to talk about ugly things? she said. ... We should think only beautiful things, as much as we can. There is so much beautiful in the world if you look around. You are looking only at t...
Why do men want to kill the bodies of other men? Women don't want to kill the bodies of other women, by and large. As far as we know.Here are some traditional reasons: Loot. Territory. Lust for power....
Why couldn’t the two of them have gone on and on forever? Himself and Constance, sun and moon, each one of them shining, though in different ways. Instead of which he’s here, forsaken by her, abandone...
Why can't I believe? she asked the darkness. Behind her eyelids she saw an animal. It was golden colour, with gentle green eyes and canine teeth, and curly wool instead of fur. It opened its mouth, bu...
Whoever cares the most will lose.
Where there are wars, there will be crows, the carrion-fanciers. And ravens too, the warbirds, the eyeball gourmands. And vultures, the holy birds of yore, old connoisseurs of rot.
Where I am is not a prison but a privilege, as Aunt Lydia said, who is in love with either/or.
When you're young, you think everything you do is disposable. You move from now to now, crumpling time up in your hands, tossing it away. You're your own speeding car. You think you can get rid of thi...
When you are in the middle of a story it isn’t a story at all, but only a confusion;
When you are in the middle of a story it isn't a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass and splintered wood; like a house in a whirlwind, or els...