There are no simple words. I don't know why I thought I could hide anything behind language.

I write fantasy because it's there. I have no other excuse for sitting down for several hours a day indulging my imagination. Daydreaming. Thinking up imaginary people, impossible places.

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 context that can't be transformed into food for the imagination.

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 golden-haired, thousand-eyed faces to follow the sun.

When you put your hands and mind and heart into the knowing of a thing ... there is no room in you for fear.

Shall I add a man to my collection?

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