I don't think there is such a thing as a bad book for children . . . do not discourage children from reading because you feel they are reading the wrong thing. Fiction you do not like is the gateway d...
And life is a good thing for a writer. It's where we get our raw material, for a start. We quite like to stop and watch it.
Read. Read anything. Read the things they say are good for you, and the things they claim are junk. You'll find what you need to find. Just read.
فالكُتبُ مأمونة الجانب أكثر من الناس على كُل حال
[D]on't ever apologise to an author for buying something in paperback, or taking it out from a library (that's what they're there for. your library). Don't apologise to
Young man, he said, understand this: there are two Londons. There's London Abovethat's where you livedand then there's London Belowthe Undersideinhabited by the people who fell through the cracks in t...
You say I have no power? Perhaps you speak truly... But — you say that dreams have no power here? Tell me, Lucifer Morningstar... Ask yourselves, all of you... What power would hell have if those impr...
You people talk about the living and the dead as if they were two mutually exclusive categories. As if you can not have a river that is also a road, or a song that is also a color.
To bite off your shadow is neither easy nor painless. It demands a single-mindedness that is almost unknown in this day.
Three years in London had not changed Richard, although it had changed the way he perceived the city. Richard had originally imagined London as a gray city, even a black city, from pictures he had see...
They were having an argument as old and comfortable as an armchair, the kind of argument that no one ever really wins or loses but which can go on forever, if both parties are willing.
There are four simple ways for the observant to tell Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar apart: first, Mr. Vandemar is two and a half heads taller than Mr. Croup; second, Mr. Croup has eyes of a faded china bl...
The only thing that kept me going was stories. Stories are hope. They take you out of yourself for a bit, and when you get dropped back in, you're different- you're stronger, you've seen more, you've...
The Sky was red, but not warm red of a sunset. This was an angry, glowering red, the colour of an infected wound.
Sometimes you do things you regret, but there's nothing you can do about them. Times change. Doors close behind you. You move on.
Silver chains come in all shapes and sizes.
She's realized the real problem with stories -- if you keep them going long enough, they always end in death.
She said we all not only could know everything. We do. We just tell ourselves we don't to make it all bearable.
Rock City begins as an ornamental garden on a mountain side: its visitors walk a path that takes them through rocks, over rocks, between rocks. They throw corn into a deer enclosure, cross a hanging b...
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.'