Besides, said Mr Norrell, I really have no desire to write reviews of other people's books. Modern publications upon magic are the most pernicious things in the world, full of misinformation and wrong...
It seemed that it was not only live magicians which Mr. Norrell despised. He had taken the measure of all the dead ones too and found them wanting.
They were Englishmen and, to them, the decline of other nations was the most natural thing in the world. They belonged to a race blessed with so sensitive an appreciation of its own talents (and so do...
The little man was all smiling acquiescence.
Perhaps I am too tame, too domestic a magician. But how does one work up a little madness? I meet with mad people every day in the street, but I never thought before to wonder how they got mad. Perhap...
Woods were ringed with a colour so soft, so subtle that it could scarcely be said to be a colour at all. It was more the of a colour - as if the trees were dreaming green dreams or thinking green tho...
When you're writing, you're creating something out of nothing ... A successful piece of writing is like doing a successful piece of magic.
Had it not been for Mr. Drawlight and Mr. Lascelles (benevolent souls!) the Town would have been starved of information of any sort, but they drove diligently about London making their appearance in a...
Nothing was more characteristic of Sir Walter Pole than Surprize. His eyes grew large, his eyebrows rose half an inch upon his face and he leant suddenly backwards and altogether he resembled nothing...
It may be laid down as a general rule that if a man begins to sing, no one will take any notice of his song except his fellow human beings. This is true even if his song is surpassingly beautiful. Oth...
She wore a gown the color of storms, shadows, and rain and a necklace of broken promises and regrets.
He was so clean and healthy and pleased about everything that he positively shone – which is only to be expected in a fairy or an angel, but is somewhat disconcerting in an attorney.
I was told once by some country people that a magician should never tell his dreams because the telling will make them come true. But I say that is great nonsense.
Hush, sir! whispered the man, Your voice. It is too loud. You will wake him up! Wake him up? Who? The man under the hedge, sir. He is a magician. Did you never hear that if you wake a magician before...
Stephen had never seen a landscape so calculated to reduce the onlooker to utter despair in an instant. This is one of your kingdoms, I suppose, sir? he said. My kingdoms? exclaimed the gentleman in s...
I reached out my hand, England's rivers turned and flowed the other way...I reached out my hand, my enemies's blood stopt in their veins...I reached out my hand; thought and memory flew out of my enem...
In a war one is either living like a prince or a vagabond. I
And a couple of days later he sent Strange a haggis (a sort of Scotch pudding) as a present.
To be more precise it was the color of heartache.
In the fairy’s song the earth recognized the names by which it called itself.
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