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She found herself to be quite worried that something would jump out at her, so she began to whistle. She thought it might make it harder for things to jump out at her, if she was whistling.
Neil Gaiman
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Neil Gaiman
Age: 63
Born: 1960
Born: November 10
Actor
Author
Beekeeper
Blogger
Comics Writer
Film Director
Film Producer
Journalist
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Science Fiction Writer
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Writer
Portchester
Hampshire
Neil Richard Gaiman
Neil Richard MacKinnon Gaiman
Thought
Whistling
Might
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Something
Jump
Make
Worried
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Quite
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The world seemed to shimmer a little at the edges.
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You can't just boss bacteria around like that, said the younger Mrs. Hempstock. They don't like it. Stuff and silliness, said the old lady. You leave wigglers alone and they'll be carrying on like anything. Show them who's boss and they can't do enough for you. You've tasted my cheese.
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The cat dropped the rat between its two front paws. There are those, it said with a sigh, in tones as smooth as oiled silk, who have suggested that the tendency of a cat to play with its prey is a merciful one - after all, it permits the occasional funny little running snack to escape, from time to time. How often does your dinner get to esc
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It's easy, there's a trick to it, you do it or you die.
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I hope you'll make mistakes. If you're making mistakes, it means you're out there doing something.
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I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it.
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How big are souls anyway? asked Coraline. The other mother sat down at the kitchen table and leaned against the back wall, saying nothing. She picked at her teeth with a long crimson-varnished fingernail, then she tapped the finger, gently, tap-tap-tap against the polished black surface of her black button eyes.
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Perhaps this is the ultimate freedom, eh, Dreamlord? The freedom to leave.
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It's still National Library Week. You should be especially nice to a librarian today, or tomorrow. Sometime this week, anyway. Probably the librarians would like tea. Or chocolates. Or a reliable source of funding.
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He sighed. It was a long sigh, weary and worldly-wise. The kind of sigh you could picture God heaving after six days of hard work and looking forward to some serious cosmic R&R, only to be handed a report by an angel concerning a problem with someone eating an apple.
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If there's one thing that a study of history has taught us, it is that things can always get worse.
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I wanted to put a reference to masturbation in one of the scripts for the Sandman. It was immediately cut by the editor [Karen Berger]. She told me, There's no masturbation in the DC Universe. To which my reaction was, Well, that explains a lot about the DC Universe.
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Without dreams, there could be no despair.
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She says nothing at all, but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches, with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars.
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I see libraries and librarians as frontline soldiers in the war against illiteracy and the lack of imagination.
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Nobody actually looks like what they really are on the inside.
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Soon,” said the crackling voice of the flame, coming from behind him, “they will fall. Soon they will fall and the star people will meet the earth people. There will be heroes among them, and men who will slay monsters and bring knowledge, but none of them will be gods. This is a poor place for gods.
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It is going to take more than just a couple of good-hearted souls to raise this child. It will take a graveyard.
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I tweet, therefore my entire life has shrunk to 140 character chunks of instant event and predigested gnomic wisdom. And swearing.
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I guess it's just another one of life's little mysteries. I'm tired of mysteries. Yeah? I think they add a kind of zest to the world. Like salt in a stew.
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