"He was fiercely independent in his thinking, and although he grew up among the New Left, and remained sympathetic to many of its critiques and aspirations..."

"Нe had made a transition that others had not, from revolutionary and radical politics to a more practical politics, a sort of left wing of the possible."

"It was as if, within that still winter night's vastness a strange soft-feathered bird of passage had come to beat its hopeless wings against the windows of her heart."

"Christmastide and a good heart’s breath against a cold pane are enough to bring lost faces back in evergreen eternity."

"The mirror’s Magic—that mirror—the one he gave me—because it tells me the sweetest lies about myself! I’ve looked into it time and time again since then—by daylight—by lamplight—by moon and starshine—and each time that dear little mirror says: Jewel Luchak, you’re the prettiest girl in twelve green counties! Mayra smiled and thought silently to herself: Couldn't it be, my child, that the Magic's not in the mirror at all? Couldn't it be that it's having someone love you is making you prettier all the time?"

"Lord save little children! They abide. The wind blows and the rain is cold. Yet, they abide."

"Miz Cooper says don't pay her no mind because she is most likely one of them Duck River Baptists and probably a Republican to boot and we just went on home down the street."

"Toby sighs and sees his breath suddenly being upon the icy window pane and that printed breath is a faith that already ancient, faery legions of the Ice King are bearing his letter high and away for the right eyes to read."

"Is goodness just for Sundays and is love just for Christmas? Must the living fragrance of human love be packed away with the tree ornaments once Christmas day is past?"

"When you tell a lie it must be to keep from saying a worse thing. Then lying is not a Sin and God will not punish you. (But what if God is one of them?)"

"I am afraid of Mr. Powell. I am more afraid of him than I have ever been of shadows or the thunder or when you look through the little bubble in the glass of the window in the upstairs hall and all of the out-of-doors stretches and twists its neck."

"Old houses move in their sleep like the dreaming, remembering limbs of very old people. Boards whisper, steps cry out softly to the whispering remembrance of footfalls long gone to earth. Mantelpieces strain gently in the darkness beneath the ghosts of old Christmas stockings. Joists and beams and rafters hunch lightly like the brittle ribs of old women in their sleep: the heart recalling, the worn carpet slippers whispering down the halls again."

"Deep in the brush filth above the north pasture a rabbit gave the shrill death cry before the soft owl fell from the moon, and she thought: 'Deed, it's a hard world for little things."

"It was a warm night for the end of March. Walt had left the front door to the ice-cream parlor open when he went out after supper to gossip with the old men down at Darly Stidger's store. And yet it was not spring, although winter was dead and the moon was sickly with the neitherness of the time between those seasons: those last few weeks before the cries of the green frogs would rise in stitching clamor from the river shores and meadow bogs."

"Hate, my gentle lady, said Captain Anschutz, is only Love that has lost its way home in the dark."

"Preacher walks away and stands for a spell staring out the cell window with his long, skinny hands folded behind him. Ben looks at those hands and shivers. What kind of a man would have his fingers tattooed that way? he thinks. The fingers of the right hand, each one with a blue letter beneath the gray, evil skin—L—O—V—E. And the fingers of the left hand done the same way only now the letters spell out H—A—T—E. What kind of a man? What kind of a preacher?"

"Salvation! Why, it's always a last-minute business, boy."

"Ming Hang Hung! the words rang faintly through his daydream like echoes of Miz Cunningham's tart little doorbell. Then he looked again at the old woman herself. Why, she was really quite wonderful—this old fat woman! In the end, she got her hands on nearly everything in the world! Just look at her window! There by the pair of old overshoes were Jamey Hankins' ice skates. There was old Walt Spoon's elk's tooth. There—his mother's own wedding ring! There was a world in the window of this remarkable old woman. And it was probable that when Miz Cunningham like an ancient barn owl fluttered and flapped to earth at last, they would take her away and pluck her open and find her belly lined with fur and feathers and the tiny mice skulls of myriad dreams."

"He thought again of the watch in the window. It had twelve black numbers on its moon face and there was magic to that. For these were numbers that were not really numbers at all but letters like in words. He shivered at the possibilities of such untold magic."

"Treason is an easy word to speak. A traitor is one who fights and loses. Washington was a traitor to George III. Treason won, and Washington is immortal. Treason is a word that victors hurl at those who fail."

"Those who even slightly understand my character, must know that I have always been too utterly indifferent to, too unfortunately contemptuous of public opinion, to stoop to any deception in order to conciliate it."

"The only wards I ever knew happen to be fictitious characters."

"Wealth and all its good things becomes with us at last habit. And habit is life."

"Money is everything in this world to some people, and more than the next to other poor souls."

"Oh! Duty is an icy shadow. It will freeze you. It cannot fill the heart's sanctuary."

"If a man’s innate self-respect will not save him from habitual, disgusting intoxication, all the female influence in the universe would not avail. Man’s will, like woman’s, is stronger than his affection, and once subjugated by vice, all external influence will be futile."

"Oh! what a luxury it is to weep, And find in tears a sad relief!"

"It is a mournful thing to know that you are utterly isolated among millions of human beings; that not a drop of your blood flows in any other veins."

"Death and taxes and childbirth! There's never any convenient time for any of them!"

"Fighting is like champagne. It goes to the heads of cowards as quickly as of heroes. Any fool can be brave on a battlefield when it's be brave or else be killed."

"I was a white man and turning yellow when—she came."

"Somewhere in the South Pacific lies a little white boat with a queer crew—an arch-fiend and his two imps, a man who was a man and a woman who placed her honor far—far higher than her life."

"I wonder if every group of managers who becomes used to being in charge, who is dedicated to nothing more than keeping things the same and themselves in power, ends up acting in the same ways even if they use different justifications? They don’t want anyone questioning their decisions or their authority."

"“No one else could be just like you,” Alain said. “That had better be a compliment, but even if it isn’t I have to admit you’re probably right.”"

"“You blame your mother for your nightmares?” “Why not? That’s what mothers are for. Daughters blame them for their problems.”"

"“How will we do all these things? What is the plan?” “The plan?” Mari hesitated. “We don’t really have a plan. We’ll have to improvise.” “Improvise?” “That means making things up as you go along,” Mari explained. “But you told me earlier today that we need to have a plan before we begin anything complicated,” Alain objected. “Yes, I did, but— Fine. Our plan is to improvise.”"

"How did the other Mechanics miss this? Or maybe they didn’t. Maybe they chose to miss it. Maybe they didn’t see anything that didn’t match their own predetermined theories."

"“Should we tell them about these abrasions, or do they already know everything that needs to be known?” The other Mechanic rolled his eyes. “You know the type, I guess. Go through the motions of researching the problem when they’ve already decided what the problem is and what they’re going to do.” “I usually end up having problems with Mechanics like that.” “Don’t we all.”"

"Perhaps that is the only wisdom there really is, young Mage: that our choices matter."

"The hardest part of being in my Guild is having so many rules and restrictions and people telling me what to do. Some of the rules make sense. You can see why they’re necessary. But a lot of other rules feel like they’re just there because someone wanted to control Mechanics who were lower in rank."

"Maybe what this world needs is someone who won’t do whatever they think is necessary to make things be the way they want."

"Those who study legends never expect to actually meet one."

"“We really have to work on your social skills.” “What are social skills?” “They’re…um…how people avoid saying what they really think.”"

"“It does not appear to be too difficult,” Alain agreed. “But I remember being cautioned that maps carry their own illusions, often making appear simple a journey which is actually far more difficult in practice.”"

"Alain realized that Mari looked unusually attractive when she was contemplating the results of major sabotage she had committed against people trying to imprison her. That probably ought to concern him, but it did not."

"I think an unquestioned sense of entitlement and superiority is more likely to make someone inferior in spirit. No one should be certain that they are better than everyone else."

"I’m not one of those fools who think that by ignoring reality you can make it go away."

"“Oh. Mari has a temper?” “In the same way that the sea has water, yes.”"