- Being a writer of fiction isn’t like being a compulsive liar, honestly.
- Black as night, sweet as sin.
- Even the proudest spirit can be broken with love.
- Google can bring you back 100,000 answers, a librarian can bring you back the right one.
- I don’t think you should ever insult people unintentionally: if you’re doing it, you ought to mean it.
- If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boy and his dog and his friends. And a summer that never ends.
- Let’s start a new tomorrow, today.
- Life is a disease: sexually transmitted, and invariably fatal.
- Most books on witchcraft will tell you that witches work naked. This is because most books on witchcraft were written by men.
- Not only are there no happy endings,’ she told him, ‘there aren’t even any endings.
- Only the phoenix rises and does not descend. And everything changes. And nothing is truly lost.
- Rule number one: Don’t fuck with librarians.
- Sometimes we can choose the paths we follow. Sometimes our choices are made for us. And sometimes we have no choice at all.
- Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.
- Stories may well be lies, but they are good lies that say true things, and which can sometimes pay the rent.
- That which is dreamed can never be lost, can never be undreamed.
- The names are the first things to go, after the breath has gone, and the beating of the heart. We keep our memories longer than our names.
- The only advice I can give you is what you’re telling yourself. Only, maybe you’re too scared to listen.
- The problems with success, frankly, are infinitely preferable to the problems of failure.
- The sky had never seemed so sky; the world had never seemed so world.
- There are so many fragile things, after all. People break so easily, and so do dreams and hearts.
- There’s none so blind as those who will not listen.
- Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot.
- Tomorrow may be hell, but today was a good writing day, and on the good writing days nothing else matters.
- We have the right, and the obligation, to tell old stories in our own ways, because they are our stories.
- We wrapped our dreams in words and patterned the words so that they would live forever, unforgettable.
- Wherever you go, you take yourself with you.
- You’re always you, and that don’t change, and you’re always changing, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
