We all—adults and children, writers and readers—have an obligation to daydream. We have an obligation to imagine. It is easy to pretend that nobody can change anything, that we are in a world in which...
We all have stories. Or perhaps it's because, as humans, we are already an assemblage of stories and the gulf that exists between us as people is that when we look at each other we might see faces, sk...
Us in the graveyard, we wants you to stay alive. We wants you to surprise us and disappoint us and impress us and amaze us.'I think...I said things to Silas. He'll be angry.''If he didn't care about y...
Trolls can smell the rainbow, trolls can smell the stars. Trolls can smell the dreams you dreamed before you were ever born.
Too soon, the sun will rise.
This is the only country in the world, said Wednesday, into the stillness, that worries about what it is.What?The rest of them know what they are. No one ever needs to go searching for the heart of No...
Think of us as symbols—we’re the dream that humanity creates to make sense of the shadows on the cave wall.
Things. They came up. That what things do. They come up. I can't be expected to keep track of them all
They were kissing. Put like that, and you could be forgiven for presuming that this was a normal kiss, all lips and skin and possibly even a little tongue. You'd miss how he smiled, how his eyes glowe...
They say that each night, when the duties of state permit, she climbs, on foot, and limps, alone, to the highest peak of the palace, where she stands for hour after hour, seeming not to notice the col...
They could not truly look dead, because they did not ever look alive.
They could be French, said Pepper doggedly. France is famous for onions. It doesn't matter, said Adam, who was getting fed up with onions. France is nearly Spanish, an' I don't expect witches know the...
There were three of them there, then, and Amabella was introducing Bod and he was shaking hands and saying, Charmed, I'm sure, because he could greet people politely over nine hundred years of changin...
There were faces at the windows and words written in blood; deep in the crypt a lonely ghoul crunched on something that might once have been alive; forked lightnings slashed the ebony night; the facel...
There was no moon, but the night sky was a riot of crisp and glittering autumn stars.
There was a passport in his bag, money in his pocket. There was a smile dancing on his lips, although it was a wary smile, for the world is a bigger place than a little graveyard on a hill; and there...
There is a proverbial saying chiefly concerned with warning against too closely calculating the numerical value of unhatched chicks,
The tongue is the most remarkable. For we use it both to taste out sweet wine and bitter poison, thus also do we utter words both sweet and sour with the same tongue.
The names are the first things to go, after the breath has gone, and the beating of the heart. We keep our memories longer than our names.
The men in the room suddenly realized that they didn’t want to know her better. She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance...