Contemporary fantasists all bow politely to Lord Tennyson and Papa Tolkien, then step around them to go back to the original texts for inspiration--and there are a lot of those texts. We have King Arthur and his gang in English; we've got Siegfried and Brunhild in German; Charlemagne and Roland in French; El Cid in Spanish; Sigurd the Volsung in Icelandic; and assorted 'myghtiest Knights on lyfe' in a half-dozen other cultures. Without shame, we pillage medieval romance for all we're worth.
...Zedar was gone...As an owl, though, I was able to drift silently from tree to tree until I caught up with him...He wasn't really hard to follow, since he'd conjured up a dim, greenish light to see by --and to hold off the boogiemen. Did I ever tell you that Zedar's afraid of the dark? That adds another dimension to his present situation, doesn't it? He was bundled to the ears in furs, and he was muttering to himself as he floundered along through the snow. Zedar talks to himself a lot. He always has. ...I drifted to a nearby tree and watched him --owlishly. Sorry. I couldn't resist that.
...it's as empty as a merchant's soul. Sorry, Kheldar, it's just an old expression." "That's all right, Beldin," Silk forgave him grandly. "These little slips of the tongue are common in the very elderly.
Start early and work hard. A writer's apprenticeship usually involves writing a million words (which are then discarded) before he's almost ready to begin. That takes a while.
Impatience is a poor substitute for a well-considered plan.
Women are almost always angry with men for one reason or another. It's one of things you'll have to get used to, as you get older.
If you'd just try, I'm sure you'd be able to fly.
Behold Vo Mimbre," Mandorallen proclaimed with pride, "queen of cities. Upon that rock the tide of Angarak crashed and recoiled and crashed again. Upon this field met they their ruin. The soul and pride of Arendia doth reside within that fortress and the power of the Dark One may not prevail against it." "We've been here before, Mendorallen," Mister Wolf said sourly.
Isn't it odd how the little things can change a man's entire life?
I'm a storyteller, not a prophet. I'm just interested in a good story.
I thought you said you were the one in charge!" Ce'Nedra exclaimed. I lied." Silk said. "It's a vice I have.
Vanity's ridiculous, but we all fall prey to it from time to time.
The whole world is beautiful, Belgarion' Eriond assured him in response to that unspoken thought. 'You just have to know how to look at it
Now what?” Urgit warily asked his bride-to-be. “Am I disturbing your Majesty?” Prala asked. “…You always disturb me, my beloved,” he answered her question, spreading his arms extravagantly.
Nobles and peasants marry early. Businessmen tend to wait.
All social workers want is to get everyone involved in a programme. Because a programme provides full employment for three generations of social workers. And they mess up.
I get up at an unholy hour in the morning my work day is completed by the time the sun rises. I have a slightly bad back which has made an enormous contribution to American literature.
Belgarath turned back to Senji. “All right,” he said. “The Sardion came to Zamad. How?” “It’s said to have fallen out of the sky.” “They always do,” Beldin said. “Someday I’d like to see something rise up out of the earth –just for the sake of variety.
What happened to your foot?" "I had a little disagreement with an eagle --stupid birds, eagles. He couldn't tell the difference between a hawk and a pigeon. I had to educate him. He bit me while I was tearing out a sizable number of his wing feathers." "Uncle," Polgara said reproachfully. "He started it.
I'm truly amazed at you, Garion," Polgara said. "I didn't think you had the faintest idea of how to speak a civilized language." "Thank you," he said, "I think.
Someday I’d like to see something rise up out of the earth –just for the sake of variety.
I must admit that I haven't heard of the Duchess of Erat before." "You're a fortunate man," Wolf said. "She's a great beauty," the man said admiringly. "And has a temper to match," Wolf told him. "I noticed that," the guard said. "We noticed you noticing," Silk told him slyly.
The real world out there isn't nearly as nice as some people prefer it to be, so don't swallow everything your high-born teachers tell you without takinga long hard look at it yourselves.
Who owns a man, Durnik?” the blond young man asked sadly. “The one who rules him, or the one who pays him?
Behold the Drojim Palace," King Urgit said extravagantly to Sadi, "the hereditary home of the House of Urga." "A most unusual structure, You Majesty," Sadi murmured. "That's a diplomatic way to put it." Urgit looked critically at his palace. "It's gaudy, ugly, and in terribly bad taste. It does, however, suit my personality almost perfectly.
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