The dictate of the light says: Know yourself and what you are. The dark replies, By all means, but then become afraid.

Writing is writing, and stories are stories. Perhaps the only true genres are fiction and nonfiction. And even there, who can be sure?

The bitterness of joy lies in the knowledge that is cannot last. Nor should joy last beyond a certain season, for, after that season, even joy would become merely habit.

She looked, and a scarlet butterfly flew away from her, away down the length of the tower, and then another, another, an unraveling scarf of butterflies like winged blood.

Archetypes are universal, and, in subtle or extravagant ways, interchangeable.

We need the expressive arts, the ancient scribes, the storytellers, the priests.

The soul is a magician. Only living flesh hampers it.

When I am fascinated by something, I like to play with it.

I submitted manuscripts to publishers. This was not so much a feeling that I should be published as a wish to escape the feared and hated drudgery of normal work.

No one is ever ordinary.

Maidens who stay maidens turn into saints. Old women become sorceresses. Tough jobs, both of these.

There's no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one.

They say: 'Seek wisdom while you have the strength, or you may lose the strength without gaining wisdom.

I’m starting to think that you have a really bad habit of trying to save me.”She turns shy and looks down. “You are worth saving.

The moment passes. There is no point in regretting irreversible decisions—one has to live with them, and we try.

And now the goals from Carrow Road, where the game finished 0-0.

I am so ready to be a mommy. I can't wait. I notice every little baby dress, every little baby toy, every little baby thing.

Canadians can get Parliament working again. Here's how to do that: elect more New Democrats.

I think I've had more of a variety in what I've done than most actors

If we all discharge our duties, rights will not be far to seek. If leaving duties unperformed we run after rights, they will escape us like a will-o'-the-wisp.

When we have great treasures before us, we can never see them.