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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 3bf638d | I pushed the thought away. Doubt was like rot. Excise it at the first speckling, the first stain, the first faint stench of decay. But then--I suppose because my mind was on the wine--I thought of that other kind of rot, the soft gray fungus that sometimes afflicts the late grape harvest if the air turns unexpectedly moist. That rot causes the grapes to yield up a heavy, viscous juice of stupendously rich flavor. The wine pressed from such .. | Geraldine Brooks | ||
| 56124a5 | Let's go then," I whispered. "Let's go and live, since we have no choice in it." | Geraldine Brooks | ||
| f34f5a7 | Another general would have let them go and been glad of it. But he saw that if they secured that high ground they might regroup and come at us again, this time with their archers positioned to advantage. So he called us to ranks with a curdling cry. I glimpsed his face through the crowd of men. It was bloodied, dirt-streaked, avid. Then he turned, fist to the sky, and sprinted. He set the pace for the fleetest of his runners, youths who cou.. | Geraldine Brooks | ||
| 06de716 | A canoe paddle is animate, because it causes something else to move. Even a humble onion has, in their view, a soul, since it causes action--pulling tears from the eyes. | Geraldine Brooks | ||
| 0c08371 | She beckoned me to follow her, and we passed from the portico into rooms whose magnificence has stolen the words from the mouths of the poets. | Geraldine Brooks | ||
| 2628fde | Well, you must rest, later. You need to be refreshed to greet the Bride Shabbat." She smiled. For a husband and wife to make love on the Sabbath was a commandment, and it was one requirement of the faith that both of them observed with joy." | Geraldine Brooks | ||
| 424f70c | Do not mind my rough old tongue. I have grown too bent with age for any further bowing. | Geraldine Brooks | ||
| 5d4b1aa | We hang here, inquisitive carbon-based life forms, knowing that every atom of carbon now in our bodies was once in the interior of a star. | James Hamilton-Paterson | ||
| 367ae1d | Well, finally it seems I've wasted my life. It's a hard age at which to drink spider-juice but I submit. Suddenly...I felt the flimsiness of all my substance, but not so much because I'd missed something. Quite the contrary -- it was because of something of which I've had all too much: myself. I doubt it ever occurs to people who are not cursed with this 'urge to create' (whatever that is) how, far from living in sublime communion with one'.. | James Hamilton-Paterson | ||
| cf003a3 | Nothing is avowed to exist nowadays unless it can be bought or sold or measured by scientists. Why should artists have to acknowledge the complete supremacy of materialism? Must everything mysterious be exploded or all unaccountable things explained away? And if so, what is gained? Plain men drudging in a world of plain things. That's not the world I know and it's one I've no wish to know. | James Hamilton-Paterson | ||
| e5c3452 | Because freedom, it turned out, wasn't like a new shoe: you didn't need to break it in. It felt comfortable the first time you tried it on. It wasn't the present that pinched, it was the past. | Dale Peck | ||
| 12dbc40 | Insan olme zamani geldiginde degil,olebildigi zaman olur. | Gabriel García Márquez | ||
| cd53a5c | Mam said I was growing up. I felt that I was dying. | growing-up | Delia Sherman | |
| a725221 | My horse is plodding down a path unspooling under her hooves like a ball of wool, only wider, while I think of ways to wake kings or small children or writers, all of whom seem to be constantly sleeping and dreaming of me in the seventh square on a horse with a mind of her own. | kings white-knight wool writers | Delia Sherman | |
| f65aef4 | His mama beat him with an ugly stick so hard, it gone straight on till his soul. | Delia Sherman | ||
| 2e3cba6 | Anybody who can get through March without breaking a glass, a friendship, a secret, a promise, or somebody's nose is either a saint or on vacation in Florida. | Delia Sherman | ||
| 99df988 | mama | Delia Sherman | ||
| 62e1d35 | Kir stood close to his father, watching. He seemed, Peri realized, finally becalmed; already he looked more like his mother, as if he were relinquishing his human experience. He found her looking at him wistfully; he gave her a sea-smile. She swallowed a briny taste of sadness in her throat. Already he was leaving her. | magic sea | Patricia A. McKillip | |
| 0ce2536 | That sleep that has no language, No dream, No time, No end. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| c182e81 | Is she crazy?" "No," he said simply. "But sometimes her sanity is terrifying." | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| c397147 | You nearly killed him-" "You do dwell on details" -- | funny | Patricia A. McKillip | |
| fd55bd1 | You are Faey's making Meg where silent, not even willing to give this old raven the sound of her voice. Domina Pearl smiled, a thin smile like a wrinkle in old leather. Who made you, really I wonder? Did she find you in some dorway? Or do you have a more fomplex history? | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 5219158 | You are not thinking, are you my waxling? I didn't make you to think." "Occasionally", Meg admited, "I have a thought." "Well, Makings such as you are difficult and seldom flawless. You keep away from Domina Pearl. Shes buissniss for us, but she is ruthless. I don't want you anywhere near in her thoughts." "I thought you said she is mostly imagination." "So she is", Faey said sotfly, "and so are you. She'd melt you down like a chandle if yo.. | sorceress-and-magic waxling | Patricia A. McKillip | |
| d9789f1 | I had thirty-nine typed pages and a contract stating I would send the completed manuscript in by February 1, 2002. I knew where I wanted the novel to go, but I couldn't seem to shove it past page 39. I couldn't find the point of view I needed to examine the life and motives of a man who wanted to conquer the world. I did the usual: sacrificed small rodents to the moon, offered my soul to demons in exchange for inspiration, did some research.. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 0f8edcc | Sybel, you went from me like a dream, so silently, so irrevocably--I could not bear it, I could not bear it-- | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| b91f52b | Now you must go" "But it's raining", Caerles said. Ferly danced to the door and opend it to the starless night.Her voice hushed. "Adventures comes on a night like this, when the whole world is whispering magic". Page 76" | magic | Patricia A. McKillip | |
| c6a76ff | his unending ambition to find death and conquer it or become it, which, poets said later, became the same thing in the end. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 32940b6 | He gave a good yell, for Baba Yaga at her best caused strong windows to crack and fall out of their frames." From "Baba Yaga and the Sorcerer's son" | funny | Patricia A. McKillip | |
| f6e06a7 | at the end of a breathless day when the air seemed so heavy and full of molten light, everyone sweated drops of gold instead of brine. | light nature | Patricia A. McKillip | |
| f169684 | Coren's arms tightened around the child. "It is Norrel's son--it is not an animal." | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 867fbd9 | What you say, when you say a word. What you think when you say it. What I see and hear when you speak. Words are ancient; visions and echoes cling to them like barnacles on the whale's back. You speak words used in poetry and song since the beginning of the world we know. Here, you will learn to hear and to speak as if you had never listened, never spoken before. Then you will learn the thousand meanings within the word. What you say when y.. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 5058773 | Hexel's blue eyes were narrowed, his long, black hair looked suddenly windblown, though the candles behind him burned still. As a dramatist and composer, he had an exhausting passion for dramatics. He was lean, moody, intense; students at the music school constantly pushed notes under his door, or set his discarded scribbles to music, or dropped roses or themselves across his work. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 90b96a6 | You can weave your life so long--only so long," Coren says to Sybel, "and then a thing in the world out of your control will tug at one vital thread and leave you patternless and subdued." | life-philosophy true-to-life | Patricia A. McKillip | |
| 0ae0873 | He was sitting in moonlight and candlelight, scratching the head of some beast that looked to Vevay a cross between a lion and a bear. It had black pelt, a flat, broad, fanged face, a powerful bulky body. It seemed to be purring. It cast a smoldering red glance at Vevay than closed it eyes again, leading heavy against Felan's knee. "what on earth is that?" Vavey asked. "I've no idea," Felon said. "It came out of an old book I was reading on.. | cute magic | Patricia A. McKillip | |
| 5d5d3c3 | Can you call a man?" "If I choose to," she said, surprised. "I have never done it." "Then if you ever have anything to fear from any man who comes here, will you call me? I will come. Whatever I am doing will remain undone, and I will come to you. Will you?" "But why? You know I will do nothing for you. Why would you ride all the way from Sirle to help me?" He looked at her silently. Then he shrugged, the snow melting in his fiery hair. "I .. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| a5aee0d | she was, like the paintings and marble pillars, a background detail in the house of the Basilisk. Only her bowing, the unexpected, enthusiastic shrieks she got out of the peasant's instrument, made her incongruous, and therefore real. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 71fc555 | This bond I draw between you: that though you are parted in mind or in body, there will be a call in the core of you, one to the other, that nothing, no one else will answer to. By the secrets of earth and water, this bond is woven, unbreakable, irrevocable; by the law that created fire and wind this call is set in you, in life and beyond life . . . | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 121ae8f | You can weave your life so long--only so long, and then a thing in the world out of your control will tug at one vital thread and leave you patternless and subdued. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| ab78ec9 | In 1855 in Manchester County, Virginia, there were thirty-four free black families, with a mother and father and one child or more, and eight of those free families owned slaves, and all eight knew each other's business. | Edward P. Jones | ||
| 51a610d | I don't know you." "Then why did you do that for me?" "Because you are so full of wonder. After what I-- After--" He gestured, his eyes hidden; deep lines ran down his cheeks like claw marks. "That seems very precious to me now. How could I not give you such a small thing?" | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 4a87992 | I did not say what I thought; perhaps, if it remained unspoken, it would become untrue. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 91fd39f | Be gentle with yourself, my white one. Come with me tomorrow through the forest; we will gather black mushrooms and herbs that, crushed against the fingers, give a magic smell. You will feel the sun on your hair and the rich earth beneath your feet, and the fresh winds scented with the spice of snow from the hidden places on Eld Mountain. Be patient, as you must always be patient with new pale seeds buried in the dark ground. When you are s.. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| 6c383da | I suppose it was easier, in that harsh world, to make demons out of your neighbors, with their imperfections, tempers, rheumy eyes, missing teeth, irritating habits and smells, than to find angelic beauty in them. | Patricia A. McKillip | ||
| af08c9f | Then she dropped her hands in her lap and stared out the window at the restless water that ran beyond the edge of the world, and pulled the sun and the moon and the stars every night down into its secret country. | Patricia A. McKillip |