The Eyes of the Dragon

He knew as well as we in our own world do that the road to hell is paved with good intentions--but he also knew that, for human beings, good intentions are sometimes all there are. Angels may be safe from damnation, but human beings are less fortunate things, and for them hell is always close.

I think that real friendship always makes us feel such sweet gratitude, because the world almost always seems like a very hard desert, and the flowers that grow there seem to grow against such high odds.

Did they all live happily ever after? They did not. No one ever does, in spite of what the stories may say. They had their good days, as you do, and they had their bad days, and you know about those. They had their victories, as you do, and they had their defeats, and you know about those, too. There were times when they felt ashamed of themselves, knowing that they had not done their best, and there were times when they knew they had stood where their God had meant them to stand. All I'm trying to say is that they lived as well as they could, each and every one of them; some lived longer than others, but all lived well, and bravely, and I love them all, and am not ashamed of my love.

People’s minds, particularly the minds of children, are like wells—deep wells full of sweet water. And sometimes, when a particular thought is too unpleasant to bear, the person who has that thought will lock it into a heavy box and throw it into that well. He listens for the splash . . . and then the box is gone. Except it is not, of course. Not really.

One of the great things about tales is how fast time may pass when not much of note is happening. Real life is never that way, and it is probably a good thing.

I've spent my whole life doing some things because they were logical and not doing others because they were not. I've seen what happens when people act on intuition, or for illogical reasons. Sometimes the results are ludicrous and embarrassing; more often they are simply horrible. But here I am, just the same, behaving like a crackbrained crystal gazer.

He wanted what evil men always want: to have power and use that power to make mischief.

He felt as if someone had reached into his chest and cut off a tiny piece of his heart and made him eat it. His heart tasted very bitter to him, and he hated Peter more than ever, although part of him still loved his handsome older brother and always would. And although the taste had been bitter, he had liked it.Because it was his heart.

Can you read this word, Peter?' ...'It says GOD.' 'Yes, that's right. Now write it backward and see what you find.' ...'DOG! Mamma! It says DOG!' 'Yes. It says dog.' The sadness in her voice quenched Peter's excitement at once. His mother pointed from GOD to DOG. 'These are the two natures of man,' she said. 'Never forget them... Our preachers say that our natures are partly of God and partly of Old Man Splitfoot... But there are few devils outside of made-up stories, Pete -- most bad people are more like dogs than devils. Dogs are friendly and stupid, and that's the way most men and women are when they are drunk. When dogs are excited and confused, they may bite; when men are excited and confused, they may fight. Dogs are great pets because they are loyal, but if a pet is all a man is, he is a bad man, I think. Dogs can be brave, but they may also be cowards that will howl in the dark or run away with their tails between their legs. A dog is just as eager to lick the hand of a bad master as he is to lick the hand of a good one, because dogs don't know the difference between good and bad.

Oh, I suppose all men of intelligence know how fragile such things as Law and Justice and Civilization really are, but it's not a thing they think of willingly, because it disturbs one's rest and plays hob with one's appetite.

Never will you talk to me like that again.

Guilt is like a sore, endlessly fascinating, and the guilty party feels compelled to examine it and pick at it, so that it never really heals.

But most of all they only say you were caught, that you wanted to be King, that it must be so.

He had an instinct for mischief in his head, just as some people have a way with numbers or a clear sense of direction.

No one ever forgets a toy that made him or her supremely happy as a child, even if that toy is replaced by one like it that is much nicer.

I tell tales, not tea leaves.

A true King would not waste time justifying or explaining. He would simply state his will.

A King without heirs makes everybody nervous, especially when the King is fifty and balding.

They called him well preserved, but they used the term in a way that was uneasy rather than complimentary.

There were times when they felt ashamed of themselves, knowing that they had not done their best, and there were times when they knew they had stood where their God had meant them to stand.

Once, in a kingdom called Delain, there was a King with two sons. Delain was a very old kingdom and it had had hundreds of Kings, perhaps even thousands; when time goes on long enough, not even historians can remember everything.

By now I am sure you have guessed Peter's plan of escape, because you know a good deal more than Peyna did when he read Peter's requests. But in any case, the time has come to tell you straight out. He planned to use linen threads to make a rope. The threads would come, of course, from the edges of the napkins. He would descend this rope to the ground and so escape. Some of you may be laughing very hard at this idea.

Il rimorso è come una ferita infetta, tiene desto un fascino morboso e il colpevole si ritrova costretto involontariamente a continuare a esaminarla e frugarla, così non guarisce mai.

[…] az emberek nem viselkednek valami példamutatóan, amikor egyedül vannak. Általában félreteszik az udvariasság, a megfelelő viselkedés és a jólneveltség maszkját. És hogy mi rejtőzik a maszk alatt? Talán egy ragyás szörnyeteg? Valami undorítóság, amelynek láttán mindenki sikítva rohanna el? Néha igen, de általában semmi szörnyű. Mások csak nevetnének, ha meglátnának minket a maszkjaink nélkül – nevetnének, fintorognának, esetleg mindkettőt egyszerre.

The health of the old is never very strong. Sometimes that makes them more careful than they should be . . . but sometimes it makes them dare much.” Especially, he thought, if they have much to atone for.

Yes, dim—that was really the best word for it, although others sometimes came to mind: ghostly, transparent, unobtrusive