Archive for the ‘Charles de Lint’ Category

It is legend and myth that binds us all together

Thursday, September 1st, 2011

“Consider legend and myth,” Goninan said.

“You mean how they’re all based on some kernel of truth, no matter how obscure?” Clare asked.

“In part. Legend and myth are what we use to describe…”

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Like legend and myth, magic fades when it is unused

Sunday, August 21st, 2011

“Today, children are given toys to look up to as heroic figures. Rock performers and movie stars form their pantheon – an amoral pantheon where the performer who eloquently speaks out against drugs is arrested two…”

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Without mysteries, life would be very dull indeed. What would be left to strive for if everything were known?

Sunday, July 24th, 2011
mask swimmer

We are shaped by our experiences, and no matter where those experiences occur, they are still valid. The things you have seen and done don’t lose their resonance because you can only hold them in your memory. In that sense there is little difference between…

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The thing with pretending you’re in a good mood is that sometimes you can actually trick yourself into feeling better

Thursday, March 24th, 2011

Without Izzy being there every day, the emptiness I’ve always carried inside me expanded until it threatened to swallow me whole.

So I thought I’d try therapy. Sophie’s been through it. And Wendy. Even Christy, though lord knows…

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That’s the thing with magic. You’ve got to know it’s still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible for you.

Monday, February 21st, 2011
rainbow on window

I was so surprised that I almost dropped my flute. I didn’t – wouldn’t that give Mom something to yell at me for if I broke it! – but I did muddle the tune. As soon as the music faltered – just like that, as though the only thing that was keeping her in this world was that tune – she…

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The real trouble comes from not knowing what we really want in the first place

Tuesday, January 4th, 2011
mismatched eyes

He looks at me with those mismatched eyes of his, pretending he’s as guileless as a newborn babe, but while my father might have made some mistakes in his life, raising me to be stupid wasn’t one of…

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One expected growth, change; without it, the world was less, the well of inspiration dried up, the muses fled

Tuesday, December 28th, 2010

Their sense of community had come apart long before Kathy’s death, but for him, Kathy’s dying had been the final stage of the story collection they’d started when they all first came together in the early seventies.

Most of them still…

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The magic in the stories is just standing in for the magic people carry inside themselves

Wednesday, November 10th, 2010
eyes closed

I get letters from people telling me how much they enjoy my stories, how much the stories have helped them, allowing them to see the hope that’s still out there in that big old world where most of us spend our days. They…

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When they finally put us underground, the stories are what will go on

Thursday, October 28th, 2010

Even when they were brought over to this world through Izzy’s art, they lived in secret, in their own hidden world. Izzy could find them – or they found her. I could see them, because I knew where to look. I suppose other people…

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When all’s said and done, all roads lead to the same end. So it’s not so much which road you take, as how you take it

Friday, September 24th, 2010

“I know that, Tony. But maybe I’m just not cut out for making a stand. I came back here to exorcise old ghosts, not take part in a gangster shoot-out.”

Valenti nodded. “Well, it’s your decision, Frankie. Either…”

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I think you’re all mad. But that’s part and parcel of being an artistic genius, isn’t it?

Tuesday, July 20th, 2010
marina dock

It wasn’t as though her parents approved, but then they had never approved of anything she did. Sometimes she wondered which was worse: having no family like Kathy, or having such a one as her own.

“It’s probably just a joke…”

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A good book reflects the reader, as much as it illuminates the author’s texts

Thursday, July 8th, 2010
illuminated manuscript

Claire nodded in understanding.

“Now,” Goninan said, imagine a book that literally is different for each person who reads it.”

Janey frowned. “Do you men that the story I’m reading in…”

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