As we age, we become our parents; live long enough and we see faces repeat in time.
Anyway, you know what they say about wolves, said her father. If the wolves come out of the walls, it's all over.Who says that? asked Lucy.People. Everybody. You know, said her father, and he went bac...
All your questions can be answered, if that is what you want. But once you learn your answers, you can never unlearn them.
All Bette's stories have happy endings. That's because she knows where to stop. She's realized the real problem with stories—if you keep them going long enough, they always end in death.
Short stories are tiny windows into other worlds and other minds and dreams. They are journeys you can make to the far side of the universe and still be back in time for dinner.
It's still National Library Week. You should be especially nice to a librarian today, or tomorrow. Sometime this week, anyway. Probably the librarians would like tea. Or chocolates. Or a reliable sour...
If you don't know it's impossible, it's easier to do.
All writers have this vague hope that the elves will come in the night and finish any stories.
Because, if one is writing novels today, concentrating on the beauty of the prose is right up there with concentrating on your semi-colons, for wasted effort.
You've a good heart. Sometimes that's enough to see you safe wherever you go. But mostly, it's not.
Where’s Rory? I want him, right now,’ demanded Amy as the TARDIS lurched away into space and time. The Doctor had only briefly met her fiancé, Rory Williams, once before. She didn’t think the Doctor u...
We...we could be friends.'We COULD be rare specimens of an exotic breed of dancing African elephants, but we're not. At least, I'M not.
There was nowhere they could have gone and they went there anyway.
There are no whores in Scaithe’s Ebb, or none that consider themselves as such, although there have always been many women who, if pressed, would describe themselves as much-married, with one husband...
She sat by the side of the road, in the snow, all bodiless and afraid, waiting for the happiness to start.
She found herself to be quite worried that something wouldjump out at her, so she began to whistle. She thought it mightmake it harder for things to jump out at her, if she was whistling.
Oh, monsters are scared, said Lettie. That's why they're monsters.
Newton Pulsifer had never...as far as he knew, ever believed in anything. It had been embarrassing, because he quite wanted to believe in something, since he recognized that belief was the lifebelt th...
Mostly you are what they think you are.
Liza Hempstock, who had been Bod's friend for the last six years, was different in another way; she was less likely to be there for him when Bod went down to the nettle patch to see her, and on the ra...