Quote

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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Patricia A. McKillip
Age: 76
Born: 1948
Born: February 29
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Salem
Oregon
Patricia Anne McKillip
Moon
Floated
Behinds
Climbed
Behind
Riding
Grew
Slowly
Land
Fell
Full
Boat
Pared
Dark
Sky
Shriveled
Left
Sea
Ghostly

More quotes by 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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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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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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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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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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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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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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There was the gaudy patch of sunflowers beside the west gate of the palace of the Prince of Ombria, that did nothing all day long but turn their golden-haired, thousand-eyed faces to follow the sun.
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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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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Peace, tremulous, unexpected, sent a taproot out of nowhere into Morgan's heart.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Men see what they are most afraid of.
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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The odd thing about people who had many books was how they always wanted more.
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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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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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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Love and anger are like land and sea: They meet at many different places.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Imagination is best fed by reality, an odd diet for something nonexistent there are few details of daily life and its broad range of emotional context that can't be transformed into food for the imagination.
Patricia A. McKillip
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Shall I add a man to my collection?
Patricia A. McKillip