The modern superstition is that we're free of superstition.

But there are times in life when a door opens and you are offered a glimpse of the light on the water, and you know that if you don't take it, that door slams shut, and maybe forever. Maybe you fool yourself into thinking that you had a choice at all; maybe you were always going to say yes. Maybe refusing was no more a choice than is holding your breath. You were always going to breathe. You were always going to say yes.

Why can’t our job here on earth be simply to inspire each other?

Recasting fairy tales has become a publishing sub-genre in itself, and has been done both well and to the point of entropy. More interesting are those works where the structures of fairytales are abandoned but the world of 'fairy' is imported as a delicate spice.

The trouble with forgiveness is that some people don't want to be forgiven.

The blood in my veins is frozen but it sings of love.

I'd defend the right for any novelist to experiment with form or language, but if people don't take to it, don't react by making out that they are thick.