Stubbornness and stupidity are twins.
The Queen sniffed. "I rather miss your Jace," she said. "Of all of you, he was the prettiest and the best-mannered.
As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.
He seemed to realize she was staring at him, because the cursing stopped. "You cut me," he said. His voice was pleasant. British. Very ordinary. He looked at his hand with critcal interest. "It might be fatal. " Tessa looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you the Magister?" He tilted his hand to the side. Blood ran down it, spattering the floor. "Dear me, massive blood loss. Death could be imminent.
Every heart has its own melody.
Life is a book and there are a thousand pages I have not yet read.
The more you try to crush your true nature, the more it will control you. Be what you are. No one who really loves you will stop.
Paranoiac-critical activity makes the world of delirium pass onto the plane of reality.
I don't think you can write novels on the road. You need a certain stability.
For any writer who wants to keep a journal, be alive to everything, not just to what you're feeling, but also to your pets, to flowers, to what you're reading.
Twenty years ago, when you bumped into someone and asked how they were, they would say, 'Mustn't grumble' or 'Getting by': now they feel obliged to say 'Just great!'. In both cases, the reply is just a social nicety, but the framework has changed, it's as if it's become a social duty to express happiness.