What?" It was a good word. Like a rock in a river, sticking up to let you land on it, so you could make your way across the flow..

Love and anger are like land and sea: They meet at many different places..

Words, he decided, were inadequate at best, impossible at worst. They meant too many things. Or they meant nothing at all..

What do you think love is - a thing to startle from the heart like a bird at every shout or blow? You can fly from me, high as you choose into your d….

Branches grew from his hands, his hair. His thoughts tangled like roots in the ground. He strained upward. Pitch ran like tears down his back. His na….

If you have no faith in yourself, then have faith in the things you call truth. You know what must be done. You may not have courage or trust or unde….

The odd thing about people who had many books was how they always wanted more..

There was the gaudy patch of sunflowers beside the west gate of the palace of the Prince of Ombria, that did nothing all day long but turn their gold….

Night is not something to endure until dawn. It is an element, like wind or fire. Darkness is its own kingdom; it moves to its own laws, and many liv….

Those who fear the imagination condemn it: something childish, they say, something monsterish, misbegotten. Not all of us dream awake. But those of u….

Imagination is best fed by reality, an odd diet for something nonexistent there are few details of daily life and its broad range of emotional contex….

It’s an odd thing, happiness. Some people take happiness from gold. Or black pearls. And some of us, far more fortunate, take their happiness from pe….

She is our moon. Our tidal pull. She is the rich deep beneath the sea, the buried treasure, the expression in the owl's eye, the perfume in the wild ….

Research the imagination. It was as obsolete as the appendix in most adults, except for those in whom, like the appendix, it became inflamed for no r….

That's the beginning of magic. Let your imagination run and follow it..

Love is an obsolete emotion, ranking in usefulness somewhere between earwigs and toe mold..

Only yesterday a young woman came to me wanting a trap set for a man with a sweet smile and lithe arms. She was a fool, not for wanting him, but for ….

...that once were urgent and necessary for an orderly world and now were buried away, gathering dust and of no use to anyone..

The moon grew full, then slowly pared itself down until it shriveled into a ghostly boat riding above the roiling dark. Then it fell out of the sky. ….

Epics are never written about libraries. They exist on whim; it depends on if the conquering army likes to read..

Shall I add a man to my collection?.