Shadowland

You'll never get anything done if you walk around with an unchipped heart.

To do magic, to do great magic, he has to know himself as a piece of the universe. A piece of the universe? A little piece that has all the rest of it in it. Everything outside of him is also inside of him.

Facing a wall when you write really aids your concentration.

Wolves and those who see them are shot on sight.

The face was no longer bone, but animal - the face of a white wolf. "I forbid you nothing. Nothing," uttered the awful face. "You may go anywhere - you may open any door. But, little bird, remember that you must be prepared to accept whatever you find." The long jaws spread in a smile filled with teeth.

A long time ago, when we all lived in the forest and none of us lived anywhere else,

The wizard stirs, opens his eyes, and looks at the reluctant boy. “Oh, you’ll get your heart broken,” he says. “Is that what you’re waiting to hear? It’ll be broken, all right. But you'll never get anything done if you walk around with an unchipped heart. That’s the way of it, boy.

What we do here is physiologically impossible. So we must train the body to accept the impossible, and then it will become possible.

He was having, under trying circumstances, the best time he could, which is one definition of heroism;

Privilege encased them, surrounded them like armor. In the cast of their faces was the assumption that they would never have to take anything very seriously. For the first time in my life I saw the truth in the old proposition that the rich were better-looking.

God, in the orthodox view, causes famine, plague, and flood. Was God evil? Evil is a convenient fiction.

Everything here is a lie," Rose said. "Just because you saw it doesn't mean it really happened." Tom nodded. He was curiously reluctant to take up this hope she offered. If he reached out, it might bite his hand.

whatever his circumstances and surroundings, it was only a dead imagination that could call him a failure.

Night came down around them, and the windows gave them back their faces, blurred into generalities.

... the vocabulary of love was so tired.

Evil is a convenient fiction.

We were so raw that we could be seduced by civility.