Gregory Maguire · 295 pages
Rating: (6.5K votes)
“quoting reminds me there are other people in the world besides only me. And other thoughts besides mine, and other ways of thinking.”
“So she listened hard. And she began to evolve, because stories work their magic that way. They build conviction and erode conviction in equal measure.”
“Wishing is the beginning of imagination. They practice wishing when they are young things, and then -when they have grown - they have a developed imagination. Which can do some harm - greed, that kind of thing - but more often does them some good. They can imagine that things might be different. Might be other than they seem. Could be better.”
“Old Flossie settle down on the other side of What-the-Dickens and dragged some handiwork out of a sack. She armed herself with two thorns shaped into knitting needles. A wodge of curlicued metallic scrubbing pad supplied the threat. 'I knit handcuffs as a hobby,' explained Old Flossie happily, and set to work. 'Idle hands get up to no good, so I like to be prepared in case I meet up with any idle hands.”
“Skibbereen have a hard time at [math]; the best that the smartest of them can do with adding two plus two is guessing: three plus one. Correct, sort of, but not always useful.”
“He had no other plans for the rest of his life. He followed her.”
“Very few things in the world are certain, but morning is one of them.”
“Children talk themselves out of their convictions as they grow up and become distracted by their huge selfish selves. All the literature is consistent on this point. Children begin to think they've imagined us.”
“He was hungry without yet knowing that hunger could be slaked by food; he was lonely without yet knowing that loneliness could be slaked, too.”
“So young, he knew nothing about aerodynamics, except how the heart could lift and lift.”
“Even a clock has teeth and time has a bite all of its own.”
“Oh, the accident necessary to fiction!”
“You lie, cheat and steal and call it courtesy, cunning and thrift.”
“People only worry about the uncanny for about a week; that's the end of their attention span. After that, suspicions turn into shtick.”
“You feel perfect,” Hunter grunted, slamming up and wringing a strangled moan from me. “You are perfect for me, only me.”
“Early this morning I went to her, alone, seeking to find a weapon with which we might stand against our enemy. She gave me audience, speaking with the images that are her words, asking why I had come. I told her that the Elves had no magic save my own with which to counter the power of the Demons; I told her that I feared that this alone might not be enough, that I might fail. I told her that I sought something of what she is with which to do battle against the Demons, for she is an anathema to them. “Then she reached down within herself and stripped away this staff which I hold, this limb of her body. Weakened, knowing that she dies, she yet managed to give to me a part of herself with which to aid the Elven people. I did not touch her, did nothing but stand in awe of her strength of will. Feel this wood, King of the Elves—touch it!” He thrust the staff into Eventine’s hands, and they closed about it. The King’s eyes widened in shock. The Druid took the staff from him then and passed it wordlessly to Ander. The Elven Prince started. The wood of the staff was warm, as if the blood of life flowed within. “It lives!” the Druid breathed reverently. “Apart and separate from her, yet still filled with her life! It is the weapon that I sought. It is the talisman that will protect the Elves against the black sorcery of the Demon hordes.”
“He looks once in my eyes, a question still there. But we are beyond questions. We are in a plsce where there are only answers, and my answer to him is yes.”
“The rottweiler stood his ground and waited for me to take the next step in the dance of ritualized intimidation. Instead, I leaped at him. Screw ritual. Now was not the time to stand on ceremony.”
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