I don't write from dreams because I don't remember mine, but I had a fragment of an image left about twins, whose father was telling them how their lives were going to go for the next eight years. I wrote a scene about that, and then another and then another and then another, and after five months I had 732 pages.

Not too fast," called Raoul. "Let's not scare anyone." "His majesty said with all deliberate speed!" chirped the courier. He flinched under Lerant's glare. "That's how we're doing it," Raoul told him. "Deliberately.

You aren't a bit romantic, are you?" he asked, amused. She sat back and stared at him. She was beginning to think that Neal required a keeper. He seemed to have the craziest ideas. "Romance? Isn't that love stuff?" She asked finally. "It's more than just love. It's color, and-and fire. You don't want things magnificent and filled with-with grandeur," he said, trying to make her understand. "You know, drama. Importance. Transcendent Passion." "I just want to be a knight," Kel retorted, putting her used tableware on her tray. "Eat your vegetables. They're good for you.

it's your own fault for encouraging him..., you know. Now he thinks he's a human being. Neal of Queens cove

Horses are calmer people. They also don't throw things at cats.

Anyone who tells you they don't need to rewrite, they're usually the ones who need it worst.

I swear the sparrows called us ten kinds of idiot when we did it.