For as soon as something becomes impossible it slipslides out of belief entirely, whether it’s true or not.

Delirium: You use that word so much. Responsibilities. Do you ever think about what that means? I mean, what does it mean to you? In your head? Dream: Well, I use it to refer that...

Memories were waiting at the edges of things, beckoning to me.

Il y a bien longtemps, Tigre possédait les histoires. […] Dans les histoires de Tigre, tout ce qui compte c’est la puissance des crocs, la manière dont on chasse et celle dont on tue. Il...

I was not so old that I would deny my own senses.

Today, fantasy is, for better or for worse, just another genre, a place in a bookshop to find books that, too often, remind one of far too many other books; it is an irony, and...

I’m the idiot box. I’m the TV. I’m the all-seeing eye and the world of the cathode ray. I’m the boob tube. I’m the little shrine the family gathers to adore.’ ‘You’re the television? Or...

Primus is certainly learning caution,” said Secundus to his four other dead brothers.”Well, you know what they say,” whispered Quintus, in the wistful tones of the dead, which sounded, on that day, like the lapping...

So whenever we come together to work together it’s because it’s fun and because we want to.

So the Comic Book Legal Defense Fund is out there preserving and fighting for, and sometimes winning and sometimes losing, the fight for First Amendment rights in comics and, more generally, for freedom of speech.

Although I was an imaginative child, prone to nightmares, I had persuaded my parents to take me to Madame Tussauds waxworks in London, when I was six, because I had wanted to visit the Chamber...

A única coisa de que dispomos, para acreditar, são os nossos sentidos, as ferramentas que utilizamos para apreender o mundo: a nossa vista, o nosso tacto, a nossa memória. Se os nossos sentidos nos mentirem,...

He had heard about talking to plants in the early seventies, on Radio Four, and thought it was an excellent idea. Although talking is perhaps the wrong word for what Crowley did. What he did...

She could hear, some way off, her brothers calling to each other in the woods behind the house. She hoped desperately that their game wouldn’t bring them any closer, that they wouldn’t scare the birds...

Charitably… I think… sometimes, perhaps, one must change or die. And, in the end, there were, perhaps, limits to how much he could let himself change.

Writing’s a lot like cooking. Sometimes the cake won’t rise, no matter what you do, and every now and again the cake tastes better than you ever could have dreamed it would.

He had had a severe shock some weeks earlier, when, having narrowly failed to capture a large grey-brown hare for his dinner, it had stopped at the edge of the forest, looked at him with...

Recounting the strange is like telling one’s dreams: one can communicate the events of a dream, but not the emotional content, the way that a dream can colour one’s entire day.

You’re always you, and that don’t change, and you’re always changing, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

At home, my father ate all the most burnt pieces of toast. ‘Yum!’ he’d say, and ‘Charcoal! Good for you!’ and ‘Burnt toast! My favorite!’ and he’d eat it all up. When I was much...

It symbolizes a spear, and in this sorry world the symbol is the thing.

There’s a thing that happens in Hollywood, when you hand in a script with magic in it, and the people at the studio who read it say “We don’t quite understand… can you explain the...

And then he’d tried to become an official Atheist and hadn’t got the rock-hard self-satisfied strength of belief even for that.

No,” said the cat. “Now, you people have names. That’s because you don’t know who you are. We know who we are, so we don’t need names.

I wondered if that was true: if they were all really children wrapped up in adult bodies, like children’s books hidden in the middle of dull, long adult books, the kind with no pictures or...

The marquis de Carabas was not a good man, and he knew himself well enough to be perfectly certain that he was not a brave man. He had long since decided that the world, Above...

He shivered. His coat was thin, and it was obvious he would not get his kiss, which he found puzzling. The manly heroes of the penny dreadfuls and shilling novels never had these problems getting...

Sister Mary chose that moment to come in with the tea. Satanist or not, she’d also found a plate and arranged some iced biscuits on it.

[In] The Wolves in the Walls, … If the wolves come out of the walls, it’s all over.

Somebody would say, ‘Can you do us an article about big, bodice-ripping, blockbusting romance novels?’ And I’d say, ‘Yes, of course,’ because I was a hungry young journalist.

It’s a weapon, I understand?””In the wrong hands, all tools are weapons. In the right hands, everything is a weapon, or nothing is.

I just want you to know,’ said the girl, coldly, ‘that whoever you are and whatever you intend with me, I shall give you no aid of any kind, nor shall I assist you, and...

In a perfect world, you could fuck people without giving them a piece of your heart. And every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh is another shard of heart you’ll never see again.

You have a very open relationship with your fans.””Yes. We have an open relationship. Obviously they can see other authors if they want, and I can see other readers.

Everything that is,casts a shadow

Why do they blame me for all their little failings? They use my name as if I spent my entire days sitting on their shoulders, forcing them to commits acts they would otherwise find repulsive....

So write your story as it needs to be written. Write it honestly, and tell it as best you can. I’m not sure that there are any other rules. Not ones that matter.

They weren’t making much sense; she decided they were having an argument as old and comfortable as an armchair, the kind of argument that no one ever really wins or loses, but which can go...

[D]on’t ever apologize to an author for buying something in paperback, or taking it out from a library (that’s what they’re there for. Use your library). Don’t apologize to this author for buying books second...

Listen, gods die when they are forgotten. People too. But the land’s still here. The good places, and the bad. The land isn’t going anywhere. And neither am I.

Loyalty was a great thing, but no lieutenants should be forced to choose between their leader and a circus with elephants.

The world seemed to shimmer a little at the edges.

You ask me if I can forgive myself? I can forgive myself for many things.

Writers are liars, my dear, surely you know that by now? And yet, things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust...

Stories, like people and butterflies and songbirds’ eggs and human hearts and dreams, are also fragile things, made up of nothing stronger or more lasting than twenty-six letters and a handful of punctuation marks. Or...

She smiled again. “Do you like cat?” she said.”Yes,” said Richard. “I quite like cats.”Anaesthesia looked relieved. “Thigh?” she asked, “or breast?

Do not lose hope – what you seek will be found.

When I was a child, adults would tell me not to make things up, warning me of what would happen if I did. As far as I can tell so far, it seems to involve...

His beard was all colors, a grove of trees in autumn, deep brown and fire-orange and wine-red, an untrimmed tangle across the lower half of his face. His cheeks were apple-red. He looked like a...

I’ll come to you tonight, dear, when it’s late, You will not see me; you may feel a chill. I’ll wait until you sleep, then take my fill,And that will be your future on a...