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He was a worried man (I'm stretching the term a bit here, I know. By now, in his mid to late teens, he might just about have passed for a man. When seen from behind. At a distance. On a very dark night).

Jonathan Stroud

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Jonathan Stroud
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: October 27
Novelist
Writer
Jonathan Anthony Stroud
Might
Late
Men
Behinds
Behind
Bits
Stretching
Seen
Teens
Term
Passed
Dark
Worried
Night
Distance

More quotes by Jonathan Stroud

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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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What is a gathering without unseemly drunkenness?
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That's usually how they start, the young ones. Meaningless waffle.
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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.
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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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Did Lovelace's forces find you? Did Jabor break in? He spoke slowly through clenched teeth. I went to get a newspaper This is getting better and better! I shook my head regretfully. You should leave such a dangerous assignment to people better qualified: next time ask an old granny, or a toddler-
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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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Freedom is an illusion. It always comes at a price.
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So I departed, leaving behind a pungent smell of brimstone. Just something to remember me by.
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What was it that drew you back? My marvellous personality, I suppose? Or my sparkling conversation?
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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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As an author, you need to keep talking to your audience to remind yourself what they like and what they don't like. You spend most of your life locked in a room, and you need to be social occasionally.
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Besides, if you're going to die horribly, you might as well do it with style.
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And then, as if written by the hand of a bad novelist, an incredible thing happened.
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Oh, the boots were on the other eight feet now.
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That's usuаllу hоw thеу start, thе young оnеs. Meaningless waffle.
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Most traditional ghost stories feature rather hapless protagonists, who have nasty things happen to them.
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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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Her clarity gave her purpose and her purpose gave her clarity.
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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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