If you can't think of what to write, tough luck; write anyway. by Philip Pullman

If you can't think of what to write, tough luck; write anyway.

Philip Pullman

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Categorized in : Thinking Writing Luck

You are dead- what am I speaking to? by Philip Pullman

You are dead- what am I speaking to?

Do you think I could bear to live on after you died? Oh, Lyra, I'd follow you down to the world of the dead without thinking twice about it, just like you followed Roger; and that would be two lives gone for nothing, my life wasted like yours. No, we should spend our whole lifetimes together, good long busy lives, and if we can't spend them together, we... we'll have to spend them apart.

two long thinking

Imagination is a form of seeing by Philip Pullman

Imagination is a form of seeing

form imagination science

We need to ensure that children are not forced to waste their tim... by Philip Pullman

We need to ensure that children are not forced to waste their time on barren rubbish.

waste children needs

I will love you for ever, whatever happens. Till I die and after I die, and when I find my way out of the land of the dead I'll drift about forever, all my atoms, till I find you again.

land forever love-you

I don't expect Christians to see God as a metaphor, but that's what he is. Perhaps it might be clearer to call him a character in fiction, and a very interesting one too: one of the greatest and most complex villains of all - savage, petty, boastful and jealous, and yet capable of moments of tenderness and extremes of arbitrary affection - for David, for example. But he's not real, any more than Hamlet or Mr Pickwick are real. They are real in the context of their stories, but you won't find them in the phone book.

real christian book

If I'm reading something I happen to know and gets it wrong, I just don't trust the book any more. What I ask of a novel I'm reading is that it should know a fraction more about the things I know than I do. When I'm writing...I ask myself: would I be convinced by this if I read it? If I knocked against this bit of scenery, would it feel solid?

reading writing book

Was there only one world after all which spent its time dreaming... by Philip Pullman

Was there only one world after all which spent its time dreaming of others?

Lonely? I don't know. They tell me this is cold. I don't know what cold is, because I don't freeze. So I don't know what lonely means either. Bears are made to be solitary.

lonely bears mean

He dared to do what men and women don't even dare to think. And look what he's done already: he's torn open the sky, he's opened the way to another world. Who else has ever done that? Who else could think of it?

sky men thinking

And then Serafina understood something for which the witches had no word: it was the idea of pilgrimage. She understood why these beings would wait for thousands of years and travel vast distances in order to be close to something important, and how they would feel differently for the rest of time, having been briefly in its presence. That was how these creatures looked now, these beautiful pilgrims of rarefied light, standing around the girl with the dirty-face and the tartan skirt and the boy with the wounded hand who was frowning in his sleep.

distance girl beautiful

And then what?" said her daemon sleepily. "Build what?" "The Repu... by Philip Pullman

And then what?" said her daemon sleepily. "Build what?" "The Republic of Heaven," said Lyra.

republic said heaven

So Lyra and her daemon turned away from the world they were born in, and looked toward the sun, and walked into the sky.

Corruption and envy and lust for power. Cruelty and coldness. A vicious probing curiousity. Pure, poisonous, toxic malice. You have never from your earliest years shown a shred of compassion for sympathy or kindness without calculating how it would return to your advantage. You have tortured and killed without regret or hesitation; you have betrayed and intrigued and gloried in your treachery. You are a cess-pit of moral filth.

regret compassion kindness

It’s like having to make a choice: a blessing or a curse. The one thing you can’t do is choose neither.

curse choices blessing

But we can trust him Roger, I swear," she said with a final effor... by Philip Pullman

But we can trust him Roger, I swear," she said with a final effort,"Because he's Will.

roger finals effort

Being a practiced liar doesn't mean you have a powerful imagination. Many good liars have no imagination at all; it's that which gives their lies such wide-eyed conviction.

powerful liars lying

Everyone, from the Mother Superior to the priests to my parents--they were so upset and reproachful...I felt as if something they all passionately believed in depended on me carrying on with something I didn't.

upset parent mother

Tell him, we are not devils but we have friends who are. by Philip Pullman

Tell him, we are not devils but we have friends who are.

Men and women are moved by tides much fiercer than you can imagine, and they sweep us all up into the current.

tides imagine men