In fact, the only things in the flat Crowley devoted any personal attention to were the houseplants. They were huge, and green, and glorious, with shiny, healthy, lustrous leaves. This was because, on...
If the same object from two different times touches itself, one of two things will happen. Either the Universe will cease to exist. Or three remarkable dwarfs will dance through the streets with flowe...
If I come back, it will be a place, but it won't be a home any longer.
I'm not scared of falling,' he told himself. 'The bit I'm scared of is the bit where you stop falling, and start being dead.
I'll find you. Don't worry. Just be on your own and I'll find you.
I think...that I would rather recollect a life mis-spent on fragile things than spent avoiding moral debt.
I serve the king of dreams and I do his bidding. But you are correct once I was a poet and like all poets I spent too long in the kingdom of dreams.
I only have two kinds of dreams: the bad and the terrible. Bad dreams I can cope with. They're just nightmares, and the end eventually. I wake up. The terrible dreams are the good dreams. In my terrib...
I do not know what you were like as a wood-nymph, madam, but you are a magnificent tree.
I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it.
Hemos sido inevitablemente retenidos por el mundo. Cuenta con volver a vernos cuando nos veas.
He wondered reflectively what would happen if you asked a nun where the Gents was. Probably the Pope sent you a sharp note or something.
He wondered how it could have taken him so long to realize how much he cared for her, and he told her so, and she called him an idiot, and he declared that it was the finest thing that ever a man has...
He was standing on the pavement outside Nick Farthing's house, his face damp from the thick night mist.
He had kissed her good night that night, and she had tasted like strawberry daiquiris, and he had never wanted to kiss anyone else again.
Have you ever had one of those days when something just seems to be trying to tell you somebody?
Excuse me,' he said. 'I know this is a personal question. But are you clinically insane?''Possible, but very unlikely. Why?
Every hour wounds. The last one kills.
Dreams are composed of many things, my son. Of images and hopes, of fears and memories. Memories of the past, and memories of the future...
Did it hurt? asked Bod. Letting the car hit you like that?Yes, said Silas.