Quote

Here in Raine, I can walk with the sunlight on my face. I can speak to anyone who speaks to me. I can learn my daughter's language. I can be called the name I was given when I was born. Here I am no longer my own secret. Will you let me stay?

Patricia A. McKillip

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Patricia A. McKillip
Age: 76
Born: 1948
Born: February 29
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Salem
Oregon
Patricia Anne McKillip
Language
Name
Born
Called
Sunlight
Speak
Names
Speaks
Given
Secret
Daughter
Anyone
Walk
Face
Stay
Faces
Longer
Learn
Walks

More quotes by Patricia A. McKillip

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Night is not something to endure until dawn. It is an element, like wind or fire. Darkness is its own kingdom it moves to its own laws, and many living things dwell in it.
Patricia A. McKillip
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It’s an odd thing, happiness. Some people take happiness from gold. Or black pearls. And some of us, far more fortunate, take their happiness from periwinkles.
Patricia A. McKillip
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The moon grew full, then slowly pared itself down until it shriveled into a ghostly boat riding above the roiling dark. Then it fell out of the sky. They climbed into it, left land behind, and floated out to sea.
Patricia A. McKillip
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But you must stop playing among his ghosts -- it's stupid and dangerous and completely pointless. He's trying to lay them to rest here, not stir them up, and you seem eager to drag out all the sad old bones of his history and make them dance again. It's not nice, and it's not fair.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Research the imagination. It was as obsolete as the appendix in most adults, except for those in whom, like the appendix, it became inflamed for no reason.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Those who fear the imagination condemn it: something childish, they say, something monsterish, misbegotten. Not all of us dream awake. But those of us who do have no choice.
Patricia A. McKillip
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There are no simple words. I don't know why I thought I could hide anything behind language.
Patricia A. McKillip
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What? It was a good word. Like a rock in a river, sticking up to let you land on it, so you could make your way across the flow.
Patricia A. McKillip
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All I wanted, even when I hated you most, was some poor, barren, parched excuse to love you. But you only gave me riddles.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Content, it dreams awake, and spins the fabric of tales. There is really nothing to be done with such imagery except to use it: in writing, in art.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Peace, tremulous, unexpected, sent a taproot out of nowhere into Morgan's heart.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Words, he decided, were inadequate at best, impossible at worst. They meant too many things. Or they meant nothing at all.
Patricia A. McKillip
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The odd thing about people who had many books was how they always wanted more.
Patricia A. McKillip
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I would be mute, beautiful, changless as the earth for you. I would be your memory, without age, always innocent, always waiting in the King's white house. I would do that for you and no other man inthe relm. But it would be a lie and I will do anything but lie to you - I swear that.
Patricia A. McKillip
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I don't teach lies, but I do not teach all I know is true.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Love is an obsolete emotion, ranking in usefulness somewhere between earwigs and toe mold.
Patricia A. McKillip
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I write fantasy because it's there. I have no other excuse for sitting down for several hours a day indulging my imagination. Daydreaming. Thinking up imaginary people, impossible places.
Patricia A. McKillip
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I thought of you with your hair silver as snow all through that cold, slow journey from Sirle. I felt you troubled deep within me, and there was no other place in the world I would rather have been than in the cold night riding to you. When you opened your gates to me, I was home.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Love and anger are like land and sea: They meet at many different places.
Patricia A. McKillip
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The man was hit in one eye by a stone, and that eye turned inward so that it looked into his mind, and he died of what he saw there
Patricia A. McKillip