Diane Duane Quotes
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What I try to do for my readers is to pass on some of the things that I found out about being thirteen after doing it for forty years.
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A legend can just as well be founded in the future as in the past." "It's called a 'prophecy,'" Urruah said. "You may have heard of the concept.
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The issues of the choice between right and wrong has to be an ongoing concern for everybody, at every age. There is no magical point in a human life when anyone is or becomes immune to the second-by-second choice to do right instead of wrong.
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Well, the rollout of new technology always affects how wizards do business.
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Dear Artificer, I’ve blown my quanta and gone to the Good Place!
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Reading one book is like eating one potato chip.
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Sometimes we do not hear the Whisperer even at her loudest because she speaks in our own voice, the one we most often discount.
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"Don't be afraid to make corrections," Picchu said. "Don't be afraid to lend a hand." She fell silent, seeming to think for a moment. "And don't look down."
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You do have the idea of being ‘just good friends?’” He gave her a sideways look. “For so high and honorable an estate,” Roshaun said, “ ‘just’ seems a poor modifier to choose.
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All the drawing lacks is the final touch: To add eyes to the dragon
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A little science. A little magic. A little chicken soup.
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What teens will realize is always a mystery to me. I'm still realizing so many things myself, very belatedly, that it seems unwise to think I have any right to be showing people things in hopes that they'll realize them.
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(True,) the white hole said. (My name is Khairelikoblepharehglukumeilichephreidosd'enagouni-) and at the same time he went flickering through a pattern of colors that was evidently the visual translation.
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Something always happens. You still have to promise stuff anyway. If you have to work to make the promises true... it's like a spell. You have to say the words every time you want the results.
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How am I supposed to save the universe with all this noise?!
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Do it now and avoid the June rush! Fear death by water!
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"Power," Nita heard her father say behind her. "Creation. Forces from before time. This is--this business is for saints, not children!" "Even saints have to start somewhere," Carl said softly. "And it's always been the children who have saved the universe from the previous generation and remade the universe in their own image."
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There is a rule for fantasy writers: The more truth you mix in with a lie, the stronger it gets.
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My first generation of young readers now have not only children, but some of them have grandchildren to whom they're introducing their old passion.
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You walk on water, and complain that you can't find anything to drink!
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Footsteps in the snow suggest where you have been, point to where you were going: but when they suddenly vanish, never dismiss the possibility of flight.
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The city breathing, burning, living the life thy had preserved. Ten million lives and more. If something should happen to all that life - how terrible! Nita gulped for control as she remembered Fred's word of just this morning, an eternity ago. And this was what being a wizard was about. Keeping terrible things from happening, even when it hurts. Not just power, or control of what ordinary people couldn't control, or delight in being able to make strange things happen. Those were the side effects - not the reason, the purpose.
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Doctors couldn't be everywhere, so the Lord invented Vulcans. I thought you knew.
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Honey, have you seen your sister?” She’s on Jupiter, Mom.
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Belief made no difference to the truth.
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I may have one more 'Star Trek' novel in me, but it would be in the old universe, not the new one.
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Those who don't know the mistakes of the past won't be able to enjoy it when they make them again in the future.
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And we will cause it to be well-made, this Sacrifice. You, young and never loving; I, old and never loved. Such a Song the Sea will never have seen.
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She tried to walk softly and wished the trees wouldn't stare at her so.
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Blood in the water I sing, and one who shed it: deadliest hunger I sing, and one who fed it- weaving the ancient-most tale of the Sea's sending: singing the tragedy, singing the joy unending This is our shame- this is the whole Ocean's glory: this is the Song of the Twelve. Hark to the story! Hearken, and bring it to pass: swift lest the sorrow long ago laid to it's rest devour us tomarrow!
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