It must be a real betrayal, when your body turns against you. I wonder if she likes flowers. All the bits of you that can go wrong...I don't like flowers, not really. I like growing them, but that's o...
In the manner of one recognizing a line from a familiar poem in a strange book.
If Hell is other people, thought Shadow, then Purgatory is airports.
I'm bored, she said.Learn how to tap-dance, he suggested, without turning around.
I'm a mother, said her mother, in her foodless flat where the dust did not dare to settle, and I know what I know.
I will write in words of fire.I will write them on your skin.I will write about desire.Write beginnings, write of sin.You’re the book I love the best,your skin only holds my truth, you will be a palim...
I keep telling you: it's the mystery that endures. Not the explanation
I have heard the languages of apocalypse, and now I shall embrace the silence.
I believe that ideas do not have to be correct to exist. I
Gods die. And when they truly die they are unmourned and unremembered. Ideas are more difficult to kill than people, but they can be killed, in the end.
For love is no part of the dreamworld. Love belongs to Desire, and Desire is always cruel.
Do not lose hope — what you seek will be found. Trust ghosts. Trust those that you have helped to help you in their turn. Trust dreams. Trust your heart, and trust your story. (from 'Instructions')
But how can you walk away from something and still comeback to it?Easy, said the cat. Think of somebody walking around theworld. You start out walking away from something and end upcoming back to it.S...
Beware of Doors.
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.
A grayeyard is not a democracy, and yet death is the great democracy..
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.
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.
[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