Adults had the notion that juveniles needed to suffer. Only when they had suffered enough to wipe out most of their naturally joyous spirits and innocence were they staid enough to be considered mature. An adult was essentially a broken-down child.
I hope to read a Harry Potter novel soon, to see what it’s all about. I admit to being annoyed that many good light fantasy writers have had trouble getting published, in England and elsewhere, when it is obvious the readers were waiting for us all along.
Referring to Jumper the spider, who needs to hide himself in human form, and he’s learning to act like a human.”I’m sure I can learn to walk faster than that,” he said desperately.”But you’ll also need to learn the nuances of human behavior. Such as not going around naked.””What’s wrong with being natural?” he demanded.”Humans...
For an instant Stile was daunted by the improbability of it all: a man, a cyborg, a robot, an animalhead, and a wooden golem, all riding unicorns through a battlefield strewn with goblins and dragons, pursuing an invaluable ball of power-rock that rolled along a channel cleared by plastic explosive. What a mishmash!
One day you’ll discover that the opinions of worthless people are worthless.
Happy children do not seem to grow up to be writers.
But I don’t read or listen for pleasure. I have too much else to do.
Evil people relate more to the black pole. It’s – this is not exact, of course, as the science of magic is as complex as the magic of electronics – it’s like traveling past a mountain. The white pole is at the apex, and it is an exhilarating height, but it takes a lot of...
At the time I wrote Xone I had never been on the Internet.
I turned my home state of Florida into the Land of Xanth.
Princess Rose should indeed be a TV movie, assuming something doesn’t go wrong. I don’t know how good a movie it will be, because the way movie folk think is different from the way writers think, and I distrust what isn’t done my way. This is what I call a healthy paranoia.
By all means. Swords have ever been the best servants of crazy men.
At present I answer about 100 letters a month, and read 300 emails.
All things make sense; you just have to fathom how they make sense.
What kind of fool had he been, to throw away romance untried?
What splendor nature proffered to the eye of any man who had half the wit to appreciate it!