I don't teach lies, but I do not teach all I know is true. Patricia A. McKillip More Quotes by Patricia A. McKillip More Quotes From Patricia A. McKillip Content, it dreams awake, and spins the fabric of tales. There is really nothing to be done with such imagery except to use it: in writing, in art. Patricia A. McKillip dreamwritingart That's the beginning of magic. Let your imagination run and follow it. Patricia A. McKillip magicimaginationrunning What?" It was a good word. Like a rock in a river, sticking up to let you land on it, so you could make your way across the flow. Patricia A. McKillip rockslandrivers 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 nicestupidtrying I thought of you with your hair silver as snow all through that cold, slow journey from Sirle. I felt you troubled deep within me, and there was no other place in the world I would rather have been than in the cold night riding to you. When you opened your gates to me, I was home. Patricia A. McKillip journeyhomenight 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 eyemindmen Shall I add a man to my collection? Patricia A. McKillip collectionsaddmen 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 know-howbehindslooks 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 sunflowergoldenlong Research the imagination. It was as obsolete as the appendix in most adults, except for those in whom, like the appendix, it became inflamed for no reason. Patricia A. McKillip adultsresearchimagination Only yesterday a young woman came to me wanting a trap set for a man with a sweet smile and lithe arms. She was a fool, not for wanting him, but for wanting more of him than that. Patricia A. McKillip yesterdaysweetmen But even in the schoolyard I'd been aware of that silence, that reserve in him, as though he'd been raised by foxes and language was his second language. Patricia A. McKillip languagesilencefoxes Epics are never written about libraries. They exist on whim; it depends on if the conquering army likes to read. Patricia A. McKillip libraryarmyepic Men see what they are most afraid of. Patricia A. McKillip men I do not want to choose which one of you I must love or hate. Here, I am free to do neither. I want no part of your bitterness. Patricia A. McKillip hatehere-i-amwant There are no simple words. I don't know why I thought I could hide anything behind language. Patricia A. McKillip behindslanguagesimple 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 kingsbeautifulmemories ...that once were urgent and necessary for an orderly world and now were buried away, gathering dust and of no use to anyone. Patricia A. McKillip dustusegathering Peace, tremulous, unexpected, sent a taproot out of nowhere into Morgan's heart. Patricia A. McKillip unexpectedheart All I wanted, even when I hated you most, was some poor, barren, parched excuse to love you. But you only gave me riddles. Patricia A. McKillip excusepoorlove-you
