The soul is a magician. Only living flesh hampers it.

Your dreams will betray you. Go nowhere on a horse that fades.

There was no violence, no speed. It moved to the rhythm of an elder dance, putting all the rituals of the world to shame. Black, silver, gold and moon-opal, night and sea, fire, earth, air and water.

I was reading some complex books in my own youth-and no, I didnt always understand every word, let alone every concept-but I got the main thrust, which was like a lifeline in a fluctuating world.

No one more cynical than an idealist.

I love writers all across the board, but one who influenced me very directly at the beginning was Mary Renault.

She could not mourn. She could no longer weep grasping the essence of annihilation, she wished only to cease, to be no more, as if sunk in some profound sleep devoid of wakening.