I am not in my gallery and neither do I hold your sigil. Will you speak to me?
Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and adventures are the shadow truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes and forgotten.
All writers have this vague hope that the elves will come in the night and finish any stories.
You shouldn't trust the storyteller; only trust the story.
Yesterday, all this was snow. Always winter, and never Christmas.
We wrapped our dreams in words and patterned the words so that they would live forever, unforgettable.
We save our lives in such unlikely ways.
We are all wearing masks. That is what makes us interesting.
Walk any path in Destiny's garden, and you will be forced to choose, not once but many times.
They also held that the way to salvation was to give way to lust and temptation in all things. And no greater percentage of them turned up here than of any other religion. Amusing, isn't it?
The irritating question they ask us -- us being writers -- is: Where do you get your ideas?And the answer is: Confluence. Things come together. The right ingredients and suddenly:
The black bird cocked its head to one side, and then said, in a voice like stones being struck, 'You shadow man.''I'm Shadow,' said Shadow. The bird hopped up onto the fawn's rump, raised its head, ru...
The Sky was red, but not warm red of a sunset. This was an angry, glowering red, the colour of an infected wound.
Someone killed my Mother and my Father and my Sister?Yes, someone did.A Man?A Man.Which means, said Bod, you're asking the wrong question.Silas raised an eyebrow. How so?Well, said Bod. If I go outsid...
Sister Mary chose that moment to come in with the tea. Satanist or not, she'd also found a plate and arranged some iced biscuits on it.
Richard made a break for it. 'Sorry,' he said to the stunned guard, as he yanked his arm out of the man's grip, and fled. 'Wrong London.'
Now all we have to worry about is all the other books, and, of course, life, which is huge and complicated and will not warn you before it hurts you. Thank you for coming. Enjoy the things that never...
Nothing, like something, happens anywhere.
Not knowing everything is all that makes it OK, sometimes...
It stared at them, and it paused for a hundred years, which transpired in a dozen heart beats.