I have heard the languages of apocalypse, and now I shall embrace the silence.
She had such unusual eyes. They made me think of the seaside, and so I called her Ocean, and could not have told you why.
Shadow looked down at the girl on the table. What happened to her? he asked. Poor taste in boyfriends, said Jacquel. It’s not always fatal.
Rules and responsibilities: these are the ties that bind us. We do what we do, because of who we are. If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves. I will do what I have to do. And I will do what I...
How can you be happy in this world? You have a hole in your heart. You have a gateway inside you to lands beyond the world you know. They will call you, as you grow. There can never be a time when you...
I believe I have the right to think and say the wrong things. I believe your remedy for that should be to argue with me or to ignore me, and that I should have the same remedy for the wrong things tha...
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...
The beautiful illusion of fiction is that everything makes sense and that there was a purpose, that there was a point to it all. And that's the best possible lie because it may even be true.
How do I know you'll keep your word? asked Coraline.I swear it, said the other mother. I swear it on my own mother's grave.Does she have a grave? asked Coraline.Oh yes, said the other mother. I put he...
I am the most miserable person who ever lived, he said... You are young, and in love, said Primus. Every young man in your position is the most miserable young man who ever lived.
Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.
Fictions are merely frozen dreams, linked images with some semblance of structure. They are not to be trusted, no more than the people who create them.
People believe, thought Shadow. It's what people do. They believe, and then they do not take responsibility for their beliefs; they conjure things, and do not trust the conjuration. People populate th...
People take on the shapes of the songs and the stories that surround them, especially if they don't have their own song.
Television and cinema were all very well, but these stories happened to other people. The stories I found in books happened inside my head. I was, in some way, there.It's the magic of fiction: you tak...
If you can fake sincerity, you’ve got it made.
They might be dirty, and cheap, and their food might taste like shit, but at least they didn’t speak in clichés
She decides to make a list of the things that make her happy. She writes 'plum-blossom' at the top of a piece of paper. Then she stares at the paper, unable to think of anything else. Eventually it be...
If you want to call it that. But it is a very specific sort of magic. There's a magic you take from death. Something leaves the world, something else comes into it.
You can no more read the same book again than you can step into the same river.
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