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…

- Patricia A. Mckillip

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

- Patricia A. Mckillip

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

- Patricia A. Mckillip

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…

- Patricia A. Mckillip

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…

- Patricia A. Mckillip

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…

- Patricia A. Mckillip

Men see what they are most afraid of.

- Patricia A. Mckillip

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

- Patricia A. Mckillip

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

- Patricia A. Mckillip