“ Merlin, do you mind?' It was the King who asked me, a man as old and wise as myself; a man who could see past his own crowding problems, and guess what it might men to me, to walk in dead air where on… Mary Stewart
“ Silence then, and the scent of apple trees, and the nightmare sense of grief that comes when a man wakes again to feel a loss he has forgotten in sleep. Mary Stewart
“ Only a child expects life to be just; it's a man's part to stand by the consequences of his deeds. Mary Stewart
“ Thinking and planning is one side of life; doing is another. A man cannot bedoing all the time. Mary Stewart
“ I am nothing, yes; I am air and darkness, a word, a promise. I watch in the crystal and I wait in the hollow hills. But out there in the light I have a young king and a bright sword to do my work for… Mary Stewart
“ Rest you here, enchanter, while the light fades,Vision narrows, and the farSky-edge is gone with the sun.Be content with the small sparkOf the coal, the smellOf food, and the breathOf frost beyond the… Mary Stewart
“ To expect and dread a thing for a lifetime; does not prepare you for the thing itself. Mary Stewart
“ The street lamps glowed like ripe oranges among the bare boughs. Below in the wet street their globes glimmered down and down, to drown in their own reflections. Mary Stewart
“ The car whispered up the slope and nosed quietly out above the trees. He was driving like a careful insult. Mary Stewart
“ Kissing me with a violence that was terrifying and yet, somehow, the summit of all my tenderest dreams. Mary Stewart
“ I knew that I had turned my world back to cinders, sunk my lovely ship with my own stupid, wicked hands. Mary Stewart
“ I remember thinking with a queer detached portion of my mind that here was someone wringing her hands. One reads about it and one never sees it, and now here it was. Mary Stewart
“ Every man carries the seed of his own death, and you will not be more than a man. You will have everything; you cannot have more… Mary Stewart
“ I had always been content to know that there was more in the living world than we could hope to understand. Mary Stewart
“ Every time your work is read, you die several deaths for every word, and poetry is like being flayed alive. Mary Stewart
“ Sometimes, when you're deep in the countryside, you meet three girls, walking along the hill tracks in the dusk, spinning. They each have a spindle, and on to these they are spinning their wool, milk-… Mary Stewart
