All we have to believe is our senses: the tools we use to perceive the world, our sight, our touch, our memory. If they lie to us, then nothing can be trusted.
All around me darkness gathers, Fading is the sun that shone, We must speak of other matters, You can be me when I'm goneFlowers gathered in the morning,Afternoon they blossom on,Still are withered in...
Ali između sadašnjice i konačnog kraja prostire se Život. Nit mu je krenuo ususret, širom otvorivši ne samo oči nego i srce.
Albert Einstein was asked once how we could make our children intelligent. His reply was both simple and wise. If you want your children to be intelligent, he said, read them fairy tales. If you want...
Adults follow paths. Children explore. Adults are content to walk the same way, hundreds of times, or thousands; perhaps it never occurs to adults to step off the paths, to creep beneath rhododendrons...
Adam didn’t read any comics at all. They never lived up to the kind of things he could do in his head.
A typical National World Weekly would tell the world how Jesus' face was seen on a Big Mac bun bought by someone from Des Moines, with an artist's impression of the bun; how Elvis Presley was recently...
A story only matters, I suspect, to the extent that people in the story change.But I was seven when all these things happened, and I was the same person at the end of it that I was at the beginning, w...
A squirrel, Ratatosk, lives in the branches of the world-tree. It takes gossip and messages from Nidhogg, the dread corpse-eater, to the eagle and back again. The squirrel tells lies to both of them,...
A ghost-memory rises, here: a phantom moment, a shaky reflection in the pool of remembrance. I know how it felt when the scavengers took my heart. How it felt as the hunger birds, all mouth, tore into...
And I thought, eight years ago, when I began carefully charting the progress of American Gods, nervously dipping my toes into the waters of blogging, would I have imagined a future in which, instead o...
I started out writing much more science fictiony stuff and writing about science fiction.
That was okay. Nice food. And no one was trying to kill us. I’m sure that will remedy itself as the day goes on, said Hunter, accurately.
You’re fucked up, mister. But you’re cool. I believe that’s what they call the human condition,
You're always you, and that don't change, and you're always changing, and there's nothing you can do about it.
You will hear that she has left the country, that there was a gift she wanted you to have, but it is lost before it reaches you. Late one night the telephone will sign, and a voice that might be hers...
You should have told him you were a cop too, said Fat Charlie. He might have taken you more seriously. I don’t think it would have done any good, she said. Anyone who calls you ‘little lady’ has alrea...
You see, the outcome of the battle is unimportant. What matters is the chaos, and the slaughter.
You made peace, said the buffalo man. You took our words and made them your own. They never understood that they were here—and the people who worshiped them were here—because it suits us that they are...
You know the best thing about aeroplanes? Apart from the peanuts in the little silver bags, I mean. It's looking out of the windows at the clouds, and thinking, maybe I could go walking in there. Mayb...