Quote

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.

Jonathan Stroud

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Jonathan Stroud
Age: 54
Born: 1970
Born: October 27
Novelist
Writer
Jonathan Anthony Stroud
Long
Wake
Wait
Minutes
Straightaway
Knew
Recovered
Waiting
Safely
Five
Ensure
Hours
Several
Wanted
Bored

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Freedom is an illusion. It always comes at a price.
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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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The mercenary finished his coffee in a single gulp, It must have been piping hot, too. Boy, he was tough.
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Oh, the boots were on the other eight feet now.
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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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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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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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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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And then, as if written by the hand of a bad novelist, an incredible thing happened.
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That's usuаllу hоw thеу start, thе young оnеs. Meaningless waffle.
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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 was it that drew you back? My marvellous personality, I suppose? Or my sparkling conversation?
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The column hung above the middle of the pentacle, bubbling ever upward against the ceiling like the cloud of an erupting volcanoe. There was a barely perceptible pause. Then two yellow staring eyes materialized in the heart of the smoke. Hey, it was his first time. I wanted to scare him. And it did, too.
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Besides, if you're going to die horribly, you might as well do it with style.
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Fiftey years isn't too bad. With luck you might see it happen when your a sweet,old granny,dandling big fat babies on your knee. Actully-he held up a hand,interrupting Kitty's cry of protest-no,that's wrong. My projection is incorrect. Good. You'll never be a sweet old granny. Let's say,'sad,lonely old biddy' instead.
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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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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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Ah, you coward! Look at you, running. Actually, it's called improvising.
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What is a gathering without unseemly drunkenness?
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When I write something that would have made me laugh as a 10-year-old, or would have scared me or would have excited me, I know I'm onto something.
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