He felt as if he had left a stage behind and many actors. He felt as if he had left the great seance and all the murmuring ghosts. He was moving from an unreality that was frightening into a reality that was unreal because it was new.
He felt as if he had left a stage behind and many actors. He felt as if he had left the great séance and all the murmuring ghosts. He was moving from an unreality that was frightening into a reality that was unreal because it was new.
A book unwritten is a delightful universe of infinite possibilities. Set down one word, however, and it immediately becomes earthbound. Set down one sentence and it’s halfway to being just like every other bloody book that’s ever been written.
I know babe" he said, wrapping me in his arms. I could hear the loudly thu-bump of his heart as he picked me up and carried me like a child. And he called me Babe.
Mom stood over the still thrashing ghost with the bat and brought it down on its head again and again. "Leave him alone, leave my family alone!" she screamed. "We are not going to die in a stupid gas station in the middle of nowhere!
Above me soft footsteps, the sound through the ceiling of a teenager haunted by a door to the night. My cousin Maybonne lights up a Salem, blows ghosts to the darkness, be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.
Bob, would you be willing to take on Evil Bob?" Bob's eyes darted nervously. "I'd . . . prefer not to. I'd really, really prefer not to. You have no idea. That me was crazy. And buff. He worked out.
The topography of literature, the fact in fiction,is one of my pleasures -- I mean, where the living road enters the pages of a book, and you are able to stroll along both the real and imagined road.
As for the sanctimony of people who seem blind to the fact that mass murder is still an annual event, look at Cambodia, Rwanda, Darfur, Tibet, Burma and elsewhere-the truer shout is not "Never again" but "Again and again.
Promise me, Amelie, that you’ll crucify me with silver before you allow me to fall in love.” “I hardly think there’s any chance of that,” Amelie said. "I doubt you have the capacity.
How'd you get to be so good at this?" "I had a good teacher." "Better not have been Myrnin or I'll have to kick his predatory ass." "I mean you, dummy." "Oh.
Hey!" Claire called after him, as she leaned her backpack against the wall. "No onions!" "Your loss!" "I meant for YOU! Not if you want to get kissed tonight!" "Damn, girl. Harsh.
Don't diss me, Danvers. I'm warning you.' 'I'm not dissing you,' Claire sighed. 'I'm ignoring you. There's a difference. Dissing you implies I think you're actually important.
Bathroom, maybe? Which is where I need to go." "Ooh, me, too," Eve said. The boys rolled their eyes, like they'd planned it. "What? It's what girls do. Get over it.
„...And he doesn't like you to call him Mr. McStabby, you know." "Have you ever seen him cutting up that meat? He is like an artist with slicing. And that knife is as long as my arm. Mr. McStabby it is.
No - no - no!" someone was shouting. "No! Fred! No!" And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.
Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Adam asked as we went back upstairs. “Sometime,” I told him. “When we're telling ghost stories around a campfire, and I want to scare you.
Please!’ That word didn’t make sense to Nico. The Underworld had no mercy. It only had justice. ‘You’re already dead,’ Nico said. ‘You’re a ghost with no tongue, no memory. You won’t be sharing any secrets.
I remember when I was very young, I had a fever - a long rheumatic fever in bed for four months. And in the days, I stayed alone with the maid. I only had my father's books with me. They were fantasy books about ghosts, and also books by Edgar Allen ...
Largely this is a class thing - writers tend to be cosseted little middle-class kiddies who think that the world owes them a royalty cheque. But just doing it - being in your room for years on end, locked in your head, alone with invented ghosts - it...
Oh, very good,' interrupted Snape, his lip curling. 'Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. 'Ghosts are transparent.
