When I started writing this, I found that I simply couldn't take fantasy seriously, so it became humorous, and continued from there.

When one person makes an accusation, check to be sure he himself is not the guilty one. Sometimes it is those whose case is weak who make the most clamour.

She looked around. "Oh, I've just got to hug somebody! You!" And she hugged Puck, the little ghost horse. "And you." She hugged Pook, and Peek, and even the nose of the moat monster. "But not you," she decided, encountering the zombie.

Robert Jordan... is a lot of writer

What I like least is dealing with publishers who simply don't want collaborations regardless of their merit.

Every person professes to love good and hate evil, but in his actions his real preferences emerges.

At this slower pace the journey took a couple of days, and I fought off a few minor threats along the way --griffins, carnivorous plants, giant serpents, hostile centaurs, that sort of thing, purely routine --and I was beginning to get bored when at last the dusky towers of Castle Roogna hove into view.