Fantasy Authors

"It was not often that Flay approved of happiness in others. He saw in happiness the seeds of independence, and in independence the seeds of revolt."

"This tower, patched unevenly with black ivy, arose like a mutilated finger from among the fists of knuckled masonry and pointed blasphemously at heaven."

"Gormenghast, that is, the main massing of the original stone, taken by itself would have displayed a certain ponderous architectural quality were it possible to have ignored the circumfusion of those mean dwellings that swarmed like an epidemic around its outer walls."

"To live at all is miracle enough."

"Leave the stronger and the lesser things to me! Lest that conger named Vanessa who is longer than a dresser visits thee."

"When Uncle Jake Became a snake He never found it out; And so as no one mentions it One sees him still about."

"It's not their fault if, in the heat Of their transactions, I repeat It's not their fault if vampires meet And gurgle in their spats."

"I saw all of a sudden No sign of any ship."

"O'er seas that have no beaches To end their waves upon, I floated with twelve peaches, A sofa and a swan."

"But we have seen it in the air, A fairy like a William Pear"

"Each day I live in a glass room Unless I break it with the thrusting Of my senses and pass through The splintered walls to the great landscape."

"There is a kind of laughter that sickens the soul. Laughter when it is out of control: when it screams and stamps its feet, and sets the bells jangling in the next town. Laughter in all its ignorance and cruelty. Laughter with the seed of Satan in it. It tramples upon shrines; the belly-roarer. It roars, it yells, it is delirious: and yet it is as cold as ice. It has no humour. It is naked noise and naked malice."

"The paper is breathless Under the hand And the pencil is poised Like a warlock's wand."

"Mervyn Peake is a finer poet than Edgar Allan Poe, and he is therefore able to maintain his world of fantasy brilliantly through three novels. It (Gormenghast trilogy) is a very, very great work … a classic of our age."

"Once there were islands all a-sprout with palms: and coral reefs and sands as white as milk. What is there now but a vast shambles of the heart? Filth, squalor, and a world of little men."

"“Let him play,” whispered Cheeta. “Let him make believe that he’s alive again.”"

"Pompous as only failures can be."

"“Let go of my arm, or I will scream for God.” “He never helped you. Have you forgotten?”"

"“There’s something else, Mr. Muzzlehatch.” “I’m sure there is. In fact there is everything else.”"

"His mind fell asleep. His wits fell awake. His cock trembled like a harp-string."

"“So you thought you’d come back, my wicked one. Where have you been?” “In hell,” said Titus. “Swigging blood and munching scorpions.” “That must have been great fun, my darling.” “Not so,” said Titus, “hell is overrated.”"

"What was important, now, with her eyes bent upon him, and the shadow of a branch trembling across her breast, was the immemorial game of love: no less a game for being grave. No less grave for being wild. Grave as a great green sky. Grave as a surgeon’s knife."

"An aching to be once again in the land from which he grew gave him no rest. There is no calm for those who are uprooted. They are wanderers, homesick and defiant. Love itself is helpless to heal them though the dust rises with every footfall—drifts down the corridors—settles on branch or cornice—each breath an inhalation from the past so that the lungs, like a miner’s, are dark with bygone times. Whatever they eat, whatever they drink, is never the bread of home or the corn of their own valleys. It is never the wine of their own vineyards. It is a foreign brew."

"“You have a rough manner,” said Titus. “But you have saved me twice. Why are you helping me?” “I have no idea,” said Muzzlehatch. “There must be something wrong with my brain.”"

"Art should be artless, not heartless."

"“Life must be various, incongruous, vile and electric. Life must be ruthless and as full of love as may be found in a jaguar’s fang.” “I like the way you talk, young man,” said Grass, “but I don’t know what you’re saying.”"

"And yet, though his eyes shone with the thrill of his discovery, he suffered at the same time a pang of resentment—a resentment that this alien realm should be able to exist in a world that appeared to have no reference to his home and which seemed, in fact, supremely self-sufficient."

"“I am a beggar.” “You are a travesty,” said Titus, “and when you die the earth will breathe again.”"

"“There is no point in erecting a structure,” said Muzzlehatch, taking no notice of Titus’s question, “unless someone else pulls it down. There is no value in a rule until it is broken. There is nothing in life unless there is death at the back of it. Death, dear boy, leaning over the edge of the world and grinning like a boneyard.”"

"Love is happiness, but only when you believe it will last forever. Even though every time it turns out to be a lie, it’s only faith that gives love its strength and its joy."

"Nobody can be forced to commit an act of villany. You can't push anybody into the mud; people always step into it themselves. No matter what the circumstances of life are, there are no justifications and there never will be any. But people look for justifications and they find them. All people have been taught to do that, and they've all proved diligent pupils."

"Most of the writers I know come from a variety of backgrounds: history, journalism, engineering, physics. The common element here is not what you study, but the fact that you learn how to study, to do research, and to synthesize new ideas out of old. The soul of science fiction, and perhaps even all fiction, is to look at a situation and ask, “what would happen if….” Change some variables and see how that makes people react to the situation. So, getting yourself a good grounding in any field of study will supply you with a great background wealth of material to use to build your stories. Then you really just need to start writing and keep writing. Writing is a skills-based endeavor and there is no easy way to become successful at it. Writers write."

"This, obviously, is a fallacious argument. That same negative evidence can used to "prove" that molemen from beneath the surface of the earth have perpetrated these murders. The fact that the molemen have left no evidence behind proves how good they are at remaining hidden. That no sewer or road building projects have ever cut across their tunnels proves that politicians and engineers and other professionals are in league with the molemen. Just as obviously, anyone who denies the molemen exist is either in league with them, or is a fool who cannot see the end coming."

"“You won’t get away with it. Heimdall has to have seen what you did, and what you have been doing. He knows you have been masquerading as me. He will expose you.” “Ha!” I stood and looked down upon him. “Heimdall spends every hour of every day watching the programming on over five hundred television stations. Even a god cannot escape transformation into a drooling idiot when subjected to that much television.”"

"In reality, a person questioning the existence of the Satanic conspiracy is merely pointing out that the emperor is wearing no clothes. In that case, one can understand why the emperor's tailors get upset and suggest the person doing the pointing is a tool of the devil. Then the question comes down to one of whether the crowd will believe the evidence they have before them, or if they will buy into the tailors' fantasies."

"J. D. Salinger has suggested that authors should be known for their work, not themselves, and in this I concur. It’s not that I want to be a hermit, but I do want to maintain some privacy for myself and my sanity."

"Or animated", Friar Dudgald added. "And you know of course that to animate the corpse of a goodly man is a crime against all that is good and right. A crime against the Broken God!" Entreri stared at Dudgald, narrowed his eyes, grinned, and spat on the floor. "Not my god", he explained. Celedon rushed over and slugged him. He staggered, just a step, but refused to fall. "Gareth is king by blood and by deed!" Dudgald shouted. "Anointed by Ilmater himself!" "As every drow matron claims to be anointed by Lolth!" the stubborn prisoner cried. "Lord Ilmater strike you dead!" Lady Christine shouted. "Fetch your sword and strike for him", Entreri shouted right back. "Or get your sword and give me my own, and we will learn whose god is the stronger!"

""If you are to be so emotionally wounded when you are bested in battle, then perhaps you would do well to hone your skills". —Artemis Entreri"

""Will you grant the audience?" "Of cour-", Jarlaxle started to answer, but Entreri grasped his shoulder and shifted in front. "Tell King Gareth we do not enjoy the spectacle of an army at our doorstep unannounced. But even so, Gareth may enter my home. We have many tall towers here, as you can see. Please tell Gareth, from me, that he is most welcomed to dive headlong off of any of them"."

""There are reasons for things that a casual observer might not understand".—Jarlaxle Baenre"

""Would that he slips with both and hits himself repeatedly in the face", Entreri muttered to Jarlaxle. "So then when he's gone, my friend Entreri can take his place", the drow quipped back. "Shut up". "He is a powerful ally". "And a mighty enemy". "Watch him closely, then". "From behind"."

""Power is always a relative concept".—the illithid Yharaskrik"

""It is undeniably beautiful, do you not agree?" Jarlaxle asked, looking back at the soaring cathedral, with its tall spires, soaring buttresses, and great, colored windows. "The mask of a god", Entreri replied sourly. "The mask or the face?" asked the always-surprising Jarlaxle. Entreri stared hard at his companion, and back at the towering cathedral. "The mask", he said, "or perhaps the illusion, concocted by those who seek to elevate themselves above all others and have not the skills to do so". Jarlaxle looked at him curiously. "A man inferior with the blade or with his thoughts can still so elevate himself", Entreri explained curtly, "if he can impart the belief that some god or other speaks through him. It is the greatest deception in all the world, and one embraced by kings and lords, while minor lying thieves on the streets of Calimport and other cities lose their tongues for so attempting to coax the purses of others". That struck Jarlaxle as the most poignant and revealing insight he had yet pried from the mouth of the elusive Artemis Entreri, a great clue as to who this man truly was."

""Use yer heads! A barnyard goose tastes better 'an a wild one cause it don't use its muscles. The same oughta hold true for a giant's brains!"—Bruenor Battlehammer, explaining his new recipe in response to Drizzt's and Wulfgar's expressions of horror and disgust."

"I shudder at the concept of a world tamed."

"One had been dismissed — and subsequently executed — for a foiled assassination attempt on a higher ranking student, a second had been killed in the practice arena, and the third died in his bunk of natural causes — for a dagger in the heart quite naturally ends one's life."

""Artemis Entreri is dead. He died in the Protector's House in Memnon, chasing ghosts"."

""Let us say that we did battle, and I emerged the victor. By your reasoning, I would thus become the rightful King of Vaa-oh, wait. I see now. That would not serve, since I haven't the proper bloodline. What a cunning system you have there. You and all the other self-proclaimed royalty of Faerun. By your conditions, you alone are kings and queens and lords and ladies of court. You alone matter, while the peasant grovels and kneels in the mud, and since you alone are 'rightful' in the eyes of this god or that, then the peasant cannot complain. He must accept his muddy lot in life and revel in his misery, all in the knowledge that he serves the rightful king". Gareth's jaw tightened, and he ground his teeth as he continued to stare unblinking at Entreri. "You should have had Kane kill me, back at the castle. Break the mirror, King Gareth. You will fancy yourself prettier in that instance"."

""I assure you, paladin king, that if I had a sword in hand, I would willingly cut out your heart, here and now. If you expect me to beg look elsewhere. The fool monk can bring me to my knees, but if I am not there of my own choosing, then calling it begging would ring as hollow as does your crown, yes?" —Artemis Entreri"

"Quotations are sourced from published English translations of the original work. The translations are abbreviated as:"