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What a strange world it is, where prisoners are left their weapons and the written word is a mortal danger.

Megan Whalen Turner

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Megan Whalen Turner
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Mortals
Weapons
Danger
Strange
Written
Word
Prisoners
Left
Mortal
World
Prisoner

More quotes by Megan Whalen Turner

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The queen was settling on the edge of the bed, ungainly with hesitation and at the same time exquisite in her grace, like a heron landing in a treetop.
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Today, she had yielded the sovereignty of her country to Eugenides, who had given up everything he had ever hoped for, to be her King.
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But there are other words for privacy and independence. They are isolation and loneliness.
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Before you make a decision, he said, I want you to know that I love you.
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I thought that being king meant I didn't have to kill people myself. I see know that was another misconception.
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Were you lying? I never lie, he said piously. About what? The sand, the snake. For a young man who never lied, he seemed surprisingly unoffended by the question.
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Let the gods into your life and you rapidly lose faith in the natural laws.
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All my life they had made choices for me, and I had resented it. Now the choice was mine, and once it was made, I would have no right to blame anyone else for the consequences. Loss of that privilege, to blame others, unexpectedly stung.
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I think a good book is a good book forever. I don't think they get less good because times change.
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No 'Glory shall be your reward' for me. Oh, no, for me, it is, 'Stop whining' and 'Go to bed'.
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He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.
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I grieved, but a part of me felt a lightening of a burden that I had carried all my life: that I could never be worthy of them, that I would always disappoint or fail them. As an unknown slave in the fields of the baron, I knew the worst was over. I had failed them. At least I could not do so again
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That one,-he nodded toward the closed door- will rule more than just Attolia before he is done. He is an Annux, a king of kings.
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The Magus must had eyes like a thief because he told Pol to stop and dismount to walk alongside me, one hand resting just above my knee ready to shake me if I fell asleep. He shook hard and resorted to pinching periodically.
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He couldn't offend the gods with a pointed stick.
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As a ten-year-old boy, the Thief of Eddis could stop a grown man in his tracks with a single look. Where had that look gone?
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The queen had passed him, so close he'd felt the stir of air, and he guessed that if she had turned her head, only a little, and met his eyes, he might have died right there.
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A little danger adds spice to life.
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How do you know that, Philo, dear? But Philologos had had enough of being condescended to. Because, Lamion, I am not as dumb as you think I am, even if you are. By the time Lamion had parsed this to make sure that there was in fact an insult at the end of it, Hilarion had laid a restraining hand on his arm.
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I sometimes believe his lies are the truth, but I have never mistaken his truth for a lie.
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