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Neil Gaiman Quotes - Page 9

All Quotes Adventure Age Aliens Art Boundaries Cancer Challenges Change Character Childhood Children Chocolate Choices Comedy Country Culture Dancing Darkness Design Desire Destiny Devil Earth Empathy Evil Failing Falling In Love Fear Feelings Fighting Finding Yourself Football Freedom Of Speech Fun Funeral Future Giving Graduation Growing Up Hate Heart Hell Home House Hurt Identity Imagination Inspirational Inspiring Jesus Journey Joy Killing Kindness Kissing Liars Life Lifetime Literature Losing Loss Love Lucifer Luck Lying Madness Magic Meetings Memories Metaphor Moon Morning Mountain New Year Pain Parting Past Rain Reading Reality Regret Running School Science Fiction Silence Sin Sleep Son Sorrow Soul Storytelling Style Summer Tea Terror Today Tragedy Waiting Wall War Water Wednesday Wine Winning Worry Writing

The important thing to understand about American history, wrote Mr. Ibis, in his leather-bound journal, is that it is fictional, a charcoal-sketched simplicity for the children, or the easily bored.

The important thing to understand about American history, wrote Mr. Ibis, in his leather-bound journal, is that it is fictional, a charcoal-sketched simplicity for the children, or the easily bored.

Children, Bored, Simplicity

"American Gods". Book by Neil Gaiman, books.google.ru. November 10, 2011.

She sat down on one of her grandmother's uncomfortable armchairs, and the cat sprang up into her lap and made itself comfortable. The light that came through the picture window was daylight, real golden late-afternoon daylight, not a white mist light. The sky was a robin's-egg blue, and Coraline could see trees and, beyond the trees, green hills, which faded on the horizon into purples and grays. The sky had never seemed so sky, the world had never seemed so world ... Nothing, she thought, had ever been so interesting.

Real, Cat, Grandmother

Neil Gaiman (2012). “Coraline”, p.162, A&C Black

It occurs to me that the peculiarity of most things we think of as fragile is how tough they truly are. There were tricks we did with eggs, as children, to show how they were, in reality, tiny load-bearing marble halls; while the beat of the wings of a butterfly in the right place, we are told, can create a hurricane across an ocean. Hearts may break, but hearts are the toughest of muscles, able to pump for a lifetime, seventy times a minute, and scarcely falter along the way. Even dreams, the most delicate and intangible of things, can prove remarkable difficult to kill.

Dream, Children, Ocean

He left the drapes open, watched the lights of the cars and of the fast food joints through the window glass, comforted to know there was another world out there, one he could walk to anytime he wanted.

Glasses, Light, Car

Neil Gaiman (2011). “American Gods”, p.51, Hachette UK

Richard began to understand darkness: darkness as something solid and real, so much more than a simple absence of light. He felt it touch his skin, questing, moving, exploring: gliding through his mind. It slipped into his lungs, behind his eyes, into his mouth.

Real, Moving, Eye

Neil Gaiman (2010). “Neverwhere”, p.64, Hachette UK

There's a but, isn't there?" said Coraline. "I can feel it. Like a rain cloud.

Rain, Clouds, Coraline

The best thing—in Shadow's opinion, perhaps the only good thing—about being in prison was a feeling of relief. The feeling that he'd plunged as low as he could plunge and he'd hit bottom. He didn't worry that the man was going to get him, because the man had got him. He was no longer scared of what tomorrow might bring, because yesterday had brought it.

Men, Yesterday, Worry

Neil Gaiman (2011). “American Gods: The Tenth Anniversary Edition: A Novel”, p.19, Harper Collins

If you were close enough to her ruby-red lips you would hear her say, 'I will rise now and go about the city in the streets, and in the broad ways I will seek the one I love.' She is whispering that, and she whispers, 'By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth. Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth. My beloved is mine and I am his.

Kissing, Night, Cities

Sister Mary chose that moment to come in with the tea. Satanist or not, she'd also found a plate and arranged some iced biscuits on it.

Tea, Biscuits, Moments

Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett (2011). “Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch”, p.33, Harper Collins

There are a number of paths that lead to this place. I have been avoiding them for some small time, now.

Numbers, Path, Avoiding

There will always be people who are much better at doing this or doing that, but you are the only you.

People, Writing Advice

Not knowing everything is all that makes it OK, sometimes.

Knowing Everything, Not Knowing, Sometimes

There are stories that are true, in which each individual's tale is unique and tragic, and the worst of the tragedy is that we have heard it before, and we cannot allow ourselves to feel it to deeply. We build a shell around it like an oyster dealing with a painful particle of grit, coating it with smooth pearl layers in order to cope. This is how we walk and talk and function, day in, day out, immune to others' pain and loss. If it were to touch us it would cripple us or make saints of us; but, for the most part, it does not touch us. We cannot allow it to.

Pain, Loss, Unique

There's this thing, they have in french: L'espirit d'escalier. The spirit of the stairway. I don't think we have a word for it in English. It means, well, the clever things to say that you only think to yourself when you're on the way out.

Clever, Mean, Thinking

There's an expression, deja vu, that means that you feel like you've been somewhere before, that you've somehow already dreamed it or experienced it in your mind.

Mean, Expression, Mind

Neil Gaiman (2009). “The Graveyard Book”, p.134, A&C Black

It is sometimes a mistake to climb. It is always a mistake to never make the attempt.

Mistake, Sometimes, Climbs

Any view of things that is not strange, is false.

Views, Strange, Sandman

Neil Gaiman (1993). “The Sandman”

He felt her heart beating against his chest. The moment began to transmute, and he wondered if there was something he should do. He wondered if he should kiss her. He wondered if he wanted to kiss her, and he realized that he truly didn't know.

Heart, Kissing, Moments

Love me when I least deserve it, because that’s when I really need it.

Love, Romantic, Cute Boyfriend

He had kissed her good night that night, and she had tasted like strawberry daiquiris, and he had never wanted to kiss anyone else again.

Good Night, Kissing, Strawberries

Neil Gaiman (2011). “American Gods: The Tenth Anniversary Edition: A Novel”, p.26, Harper Collins

She was witchy, yes, and in charge of a cauldron roiling with ideas and stories, but she always gave the impression that the stories, the ones she wrote and wrote so very well and so wisely, had simply happened, and that all she had done was to hold the pen. (On Diana Wynne Jones)

Ideas, Stories, Done

Even the proudest spirit can be broken with love.

Broken, Spirit, Coraline

"Coraline". www.imdb.com. February 5, 2009.

Memory is the great deceiver. Perhaps there are some individuals whose memories act like tape recordings, daily records of their lives complete in every detail, but I am not one of them. My memory is a patchwork of occurrences, of discontinuous events roughly sewn together: The parts I remember, I remember precisely, whilst other sections seemed to have vanished completely.

Memories, Together, Events

"Smoke and Mirrors". Book by Neil Gaiman, October, 1998.

I wish I could Buy Time - just write a cheque, and a few days later a brown cardboard box would arrive at the door containing three months (along with an extra bonus sunny weekend for being a good customer).

Writing, Weekend, Doors

Firstly, there no such person as Death. Second, Death's this tall guy with a bone face, like a skeletal monk, with a scythe and an hourglass and a big white horse and a penchant for playing chess with Scandinavians. Third, he doesn't exist either.

Death, Horse, White

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