He is far too intelligent to become really cerebral.

Who knows a man's name, holds that man's life in his keeping. Thus to Ged, who had lost faith in himself, Vetch had given him that gift that only a friend can give, the proof of unshaken, unshakeable trust.

The question is always the same with a dragon: will he talk with you or will he eat you?

Children know perfectly well that unicorns aren’t real, but they also know that books about unicorns, if they are good books, are true books.

If a book told you something when you were fifteen, it will tell you it again when you're fifty, though you may understand it so differently that it seems you're reading a whole new book.

I think the mystery of art lies in this, that artists’ relationship is essentially with their work — not with power, not with profit, not with themselves, not even with their audience.

I don't write tracts, I write novels. I'm not a preacher, I'm a fiction writer.