Evil, however powerful it seemed,could be undone by its own appetite

I'm a poet,' the young man said, 'And it's my job to remember the sadness of things.

I really believe that there is an enormous appetite amongst readers for an originality of vision. In other words, be true to your own dreams and there will always be people who want to hear them.

Memory, prophecy, and fantasy— The past, the future, and The dreaming moment between— Are all in one country, Living one immortal day. To know that is Wisdom. To use it is the Art.

Maybe the man had taken the wrong turning, but at least he'd travelled some extraordinary roads.

His body and his mind went about their different businesses. The former, freed from conscious instruction, breathed, rolled, sweated, and digested. The latter went dreaming.

The great grey beast February had eaten Harvey Swick alive.