Now begin in the middle, and later learn the beginning; the end will take care of itself. ― Harlan Ellison
I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other. — Mary Shelley, Frankenstein. (Lackington, Hughes, Harding, Mavor & Jones 1818)
I like the stars. It’s the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they’re always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend… I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments. Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade.… Continue reading Neil Gaiman
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 they are words on the air, composed of sounds and ideas-abstract, invisible, gone once they’ve been spoken-and what could be… Continue reading Neil Gaiman
The moon likes secrets. And secret things. She lets mysteries bleed into her shadows and leaves us to ask whether they originated from otherworlds, or from our own imaginations. — Charles de Lint
WE have familiar experience of the order, the constancy, the perpetual renovation of the material world which surrounds us. Frail and transitory as is every part of it, restless and migratory as are its elements, never-ceasing as are its changes, still it abides. It is bound together by a law of permanence, it is set… Continue reading William Peter Blatty
Everything that happens before Death is what counts. ― Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes. (Avon; Reprint edition, March 1, 1998) Originally published 1962.