It is going to take more than just a couple of good-hearted souls to raise this child. It will take a graveyard.

All we have to believe with is our senses, the tools we use to perceive the world: our sight, our touch, our memory. If they lie to us, then nothing can be trusted. And even if we do not believe, then still we cannot travel in any other way than the road our senses show us; and we must walk that road to the end.

I suspect that most authors don't really want criticism, not even constructive criticism. They want straight-out, unabashed, unashamed, fulsome, informed, naked praise, arriving by the shipload every fifteen minutes or so.

Different people remember things differently, and you'll not get any two people to remember anything the same, whether they were there or not.

Books make great gifts because they have whole worlds inside of them.

The world is always ending, for someone.

I watch with envious eyes and mind, the single-souled who dare not feel The wind that blows beyond the moon, who do not hear the fairy reel