“Autumn that year painted the countryside in vivid shades of scarlet, saffron and russet, and the days were clear and crisp under harvest skies.”
“Outside, the sky was clear, stars gleaming in its ebony vastness like celestial fireflies. It was bitterly cold, and Hywel's every breath trailed after him in pale puffs of smoke. The glazed snow crackled underfoot as he started towards the great hall.”
“The last time Ranulf had run into Sulien, the older man had called him a misbegotten English Judas and spat onto the ground at his feet. Yet now that same man was approaching the bed with a jovial smile, so apparently pleased to see the Judas again that Ranulf half-expected him to announce that a fatted calf had been killed in his honor.”
“Ranulf had spent much of his life watching those he loved wrestle with the seductive, lethal lure of kingship. It had proved the ruination of his cousin Stephen, a good man who had not made a good king. For his sister Maude, it had been an unrequited love affair, a passion she could neither capture nor renounce. For Hywel, it had been an illusion, a golden glow ever shimmering along the horizon. He believed that his nephew had come the closest to mastery of it, but at what cost?”
“Well, dearest, what would you tell a farmer who had an over-abundant harvest? To plant less, of course!"...
"I am not complaining about the frequency of the planting," she said. "I’d just rather not reap a crop every year.”
“A gain I saw that under the sun the race is
not to the swift,
nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise,
nor riches to the intelligent, nor favor to men of skill
but time and chance happen to them all.”
“She had always loved him, after all. And perhaps he knew it. Perhaps he saw more than she had suspected. And despite it, he did not look away.”
“I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:
It is what you fear.
I do not fear it: I have been there.
--From the poem "Elm", written 19 April 1962”
“The only source of my power are the pages you hold and the words written thereon. As you read them, I hope the magic starts to work between my words and your imagination.”
“Stop! By the Keys I hold, I order the Nothing to stop! House, you must hold against the Void!”
“En aquel entonces, la literatura parecía serlo todo. En ella se buscaba fuerzas para vivir, señales para enfilar uno u otro camino, una revelación.”
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