Quote

Jabor finally appeared at the top of the stairs, sparks of flame radiating from his body and igniting the fabric of the house around him. He caught sight of the boy, reached out his hand and stepped forward. And banged his head nicely on the low-slung attic door.

Jonathan Stroud

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Jonathan Stroud
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: October 27
Novelist
Writer
Jonathan Anthony Stroud
Hands
Door
Flame
Banged
Around
Sight
Sparks
Radiating
Body
Forward
Fabric
Attic
Doors
Flames
Attics
Boys
Reached
Nicely
Head
Lows
Stepped
Hand
Finally
Stairs
Igniting
House
Caught
Appeared
Slung

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Freedom is an illusion. It always comes at a price.
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Me, I was still in the pygmy hippo in a skirt, singing lusty songs about Solomon's private life and a giant stone back and forth through the air as I climbed out of the quarry at the edge of the site.
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That's a gesture of endearment in some cultures. Some hug, some kiss, some set each other on fire in small patches of woodland
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What is a gathering without unseemly drunkenness?
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Zealots: Wild eyed persons afflicted with incurable certainty about the workings of the world, a certainty that can lead to violence when the world doesn't fit.
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The Hermit was known to be pretty sniffy about disciples who returned in failure. There was a wall of the institute layered with their skins- an ingenious display that encouraged vigor in his students, as well as nicely keeping out the drafts.
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I warn you, the boy went on. I am a magician of great power. I control many terrifying entities. This being you see before you - here I rolled my shoulders back and puffed my chest up menacingly - is but the meanest and least impressive of my slaves. Here I slumped my shoulders and stuck my stomach out.
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He was transfixed at the sight of the lords and ladies of his realm running about like demented chickens.
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listen, a goad's anything that provokes or incites an enemy --- let me have a go: cursed deamon! you have met your end! the shivering fire awaits you! i shall spread your vile essance across this hall like... um, like margarine, a very think layer of it... --- ye-es... im not sure he'll pick up on that analogy. never mind, keep going.
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Her clarity gave her purpose and her purpose gave her clarity.
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I wanted to wake you straightaway, but I knew I had to wait several hours to ensure you were safely recovered. What! How long has it been? Five minutes. I got bored.
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When I was young, I kept a diary for about 10 years and I had to write in it every day. Even on days when nothing seemed to happen, I made myself think of something to put in it.
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And then, as if written by the hand of a bad novelist, an incredible thing happened.
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Most traditional ghost stories feature rather hapless protagonists, who have nasty things happen to them.
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Hey, we've all got problems, chum. I'm overly talkative. You look like a field of buttercups in a suit.
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The afrit batted his eyelashes with a ostentatious lack of concern. Indeed? Have you a name? A name? I cried. I have MANY names! I am Bartimaeus! I am Sakhr al-Jinni! I am N'gorso the Mighty and the Serpent of Silver Plumes! I paused dramatically. The young man looked blank. Nope never heard of you. Now if you'll just-
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Can you define plan as a loose sequence of manifestly inadequate observations and conjectures, held together by panic, indecision, and ignorance? If so, it was a very good plan.
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I read a bit of the Icelandic sagas. They're fascinating in that they are completely ordinary. The farmer will go off into the hills and fight a troll, and then go back and do ordinary things. It's an odd mix of fantasy and reality.
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Then again, Solomon was human. And that meant he was flawed (Go on, take a look at yourself in the mirror. A good long look, if you can bear it. See? Flawed's putting it mildly, isn't it?)
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Ah, you coward! Look at you, running. Actually, it's called improvising.
Jonathan Stroud