Alison Croggon (born 1962 ) is a contemporary Australian poet, playwright, fantasy novelist, and librettist.
Your future is uncertain, and I can tell you nothing that can help you. You are singular and dangerous, and so it is that you are sought by both the Dark and the Light.
At these times, the things that troubled her seemed far away and unimportant: all that mattered was the hum of the bees and the chirp of birdsong, the way the sun gleamed on the edge of a blue wildflower, the distant bleat and clink of grazing goats.
I tried to become a hawk, it didn't work. I think I got -stuck
Old friend,' said Cadvan, filling another glass for himself and sniffing its rich smell. 'If we do not trust one another, we are already defeated.
We are all mistaken sometimes; sometimes we do wrong things, things that have bad consequences. But it does not mean we are evil, or that we cannot be trusted ever afterward.
By the light," he said, when he had mastered himself. "I think that beats singing a lullaby to a stormdog for simplicity and economy, Maerad. But I wish I had known that you simply had to blow at Hulls to get rid of them. It would have saved me a few scars.
And then like thunder broke the frost, The chill wall fell, and morrowless Immortal maid and man embraced, Their light and shadow mingling.
It is far better to put away fear than to be driven by it.
It is only the darkness in our own hearts that will defeat us, in the end.
It is good to dress in fair clothes to dine with friends. It honors your host, if you are a guest; and your guest if you are a host. And both adorn the feast, and so celebrate the gifts of the world.
While the heart beats, hope lingers.
It is not given to us to know what difference we can make, and perhaps we can make no difference at all. But that is no reason not to make the attempt," said Saliman quietly. "The Light shines more brightly in the darkness.
Light blooms the brighter in the darkest places.
Drunk with beauty, I tore down Armfuls of blossoms. How desolate the marred sky!
Love is never easy. We begin by loving the things we can, according to our stature, but it is not long before we find that what we love is other than ourselves and that our love is no protection against being wounded. Do we then speak to dominate what we love, to make it bend to our will, to stop it from hurting us even though to do so is to betray love? And that is only where the difficulty begins.
Joy bubbles on a fountain of doubt.
There come a few times in a person's life where there is a clear choice," Cadvan said. "The difference between one person and another is how they meet that choice.
And all meet in singing, which braids together the different knowings into a wide and subtle music, the music of living.
I shall never complain of the tedium of the city again.
Many forgotten things live still in children's tales.