Patricia A. McKillip Quotes

• Imagination is the golden-eyed monster that never sleeps. It must be fed; it cannot be ignored.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Sleep, Imagination, Golden

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• Those who fear the imagination condemn it: something childish, they say, something monsterish, misbegotten. Not all of us dream awake. But those of us who do have no choice.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Dream, Writing, Imagination

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• Ella es nuestra luna. Nuestra marea. Ella es la riqueza de las profundidades marinas, el tesoro enterrado, la expresión en los ojos del búho, el perfume de la rosa silvestre. Ella es lo que dice el agua cuando se mueve.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Moving, Eye, Moon

  Patricia A. McKillip (2015). “Solstice Wood”, p.77, Hachette UK

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• Night is not something to endure until dawn. It is an element, like wind or fire. Darkness is its own kingdom; it moves to its own laws, and many living things dwell in it.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Moving, Night, Fire

  Patricia A. McKillip (1979). “Riddle of Stars”

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• The odd thing about people who had many books was how they always wanted more.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Libro, Lectura, Personas

  Patricia A. McKillip (2008). “The Bell at Sealey Head”, p.30, Penguin

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• The man was hit in one eye by a stone, and that eye turned inward so that it looked into his mind, and he died of what he saw there

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Ojo, Hombres, Mente

  Patricia A. McKillip (2017). “The Forgotten Beasts of Eld”, p.76, Tachyon Publications

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• Words, he decided, were inadequate at best, impossible at worst. They meant too many things. Or they meant nothing at all.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Impossible, Worst, Decided

  Patricia A. McKillip (2015). “Patricia McKillip SF Gateway Omnibus Volume One: In the Forests of Serre, Alphabet of Thorn, The Bell at Sealey Head”, p.56, Hachette UK

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• Branches grew from his hands, his hair. His thoughts tangled like roots in the ground. He strained upward. Pitch ran like tears down his back. His name formed his core; ring upon ring of silence built around it. His face rose high above the forests. Gripped to earth, bending to the wind's fury, he disappeared within himself, behind the hard, wind-scrolled shield of his experiences.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Hair, Hands, Wind

  Patricia A. McKillip (1999). “Riddle-Master”, p.535, Penguin

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• It’s an odd thing, happiness. Some people take happiness from gold. Or black pearls. And some of us, far more fortunate, take their happiness from periwinkles.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  People, Black, Gold

  Patricia A. McKillip (2015). “The Changeling Sea”, p.68, Hachette UK

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• When you put your hands and mind and heart into the knowing of a thing ... there is no room in you for fear.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Heart, Hands, Knowing

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• What do you think love is - a thing to startle from the heart like a bird at every shout or blow? You can fly from me, high as you choose into your darkness, but you will see me always beneath you, no matter how far away, with my face turned to you. My heart is in your heart. I gave it to you with my name that night and you are its guardian, to treasure it, or let it whither and die. I do not understand you. I am angry with you. I am hurt and helpless, but nothing will fill the ache of the hollowness in me where your name would echo if I lost you.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Hurt, Heart, Love Is

  "The Forgotten Beasts of Eld". Book by Patricia A. McKillip, 1974.

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• Imagination is best fed by reality, an odd diet for something nonexistent there are few details of daily life and its broad range of emotional context that can't be transformed into food for the imagination.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Reality, Emotional, Imagination

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• That's the beginning of magic. Let your imagination run and follow it.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Running, Imagination, Magic

  Patricia A. McKillip (2005). “Alphabet Of Thorn”, p.159, Penguin

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• En el mejor de los casos, la fantasía recompensa al lector con una sensación de asombro sobre lo que se esconde en el corazón del mundo cotidiano. Las mejores historias se cuentan una y otra vez, de muchas maneras, a lo largo de los siglos. La fantasía cambia con los tiempos y, sin embargo, sigue siendo el tipo de cuento más antiguo del mundo, porque empezó hace mucho tiempo y aún no hemos oído su final.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Lying, Heart, Once Upon A Time

  Patricia A. McKillip (2016). “Dreams of Distant Shores”, p.266, Tachyon Publications

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• Wisdom never learned silence, and it is most annoying when least wanted.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Silence, Annoying, Wanted

  "The Forgotten Beasts of Eld". Book by Patricia A. McKillip, 1974.

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• I would be mute, beautiful, changless as the earth for you. I would be your memory, without age, always innocent, always waiting in the King's white house. I would do that for you and no other man inthe relm. But it would be a lie and I will do anything but lie to you - I swear that.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Beautiful, Kings, Memories

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• The moon grew full, then slowly pared itself down until it shriveled into a ghostly boat riding above the roiling dark. Then it fell out of the sky. They climbed into it, left land behind, and floated out to sea.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Dark, Moon, Sea

  Patricia A. McKillip (1999). “Song for the Basilisk”, p.10, Penguin

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• If you have no faith in yourself, then have faith in the things you call truth. You know what must be done. You may not have courage or trust or understanding or the will to do it, but you know what must be done. You can't turn back. There is now answer behind you. You fear what you cannot name. So look at it and find a name for it. Turn your face forward and learn. Do what must be done. -Deth to Morgon, Prince of Hed-

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Fear, Names, Understanding

  Patricia A. McKillip (1979). “Riddle of Stars”

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• Then you will have to trust me. Beyond logic, beyond reason, beyond hope, trust me.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Logic, Trust Me, Reason

  Patricia A. McKillip (1999). “Riddle-Master”, p.211, Penguin

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• [Imagination] must be visited constantly, or else it begins to become restless and emit strange bellows at embarrassing moments; ignoring it only makes it grow larger and noisier.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Imagination, Strange, Moments

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• There was the gaudy patch of sunflowers beside the west gate of the palace of the Prince of Ombria, that did nothing all day long but turn their golden-haired, thousand-eyed faces to follow the sun.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Long, Sunflower, Golden

  Patricia A. McKillip (2002). “Ombria in Shadow”, p.14, Penguin

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• Men see what they are most afraid of.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Hombres

  Patricia A. McKillip (2017). “The Forgotten Beasts of Eld”, p.69, Tachyon Publications

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• I don't teach lies, but I do not teach all I know is true.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Lying, Teach, Knows

  Patricia A. McKillip (2015). “Od Magic”, p.82, Hachette UK

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• But you must stop playing among his ghosts -- it's stupid and dangerous and completely pointless. He's trying to lay them to rest here, not stir them up, and you seem eager to drag out all the sad old bones of his history and make them dance again. It's not nice, and it's not fair.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Nice, Stupid, Trying

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• Do you become in visible?' 'No. I'm there, if you know how to look. I stand between the place you look at and the place you see. Behind what you expect to see. If you expect to see me, you do. I listen in places where no one expects me to be.

  Patricia A. McKillip

  Looks, Behinds, Know How

  Patricia A. McKillip (2005). “Alphabet Of Thorn”, p.54, Penguin

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