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One doesn't generally look into mirrors when one is especially angry one has better things to do, like pace the floor or throw things.

Robin McKinley

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Robin McKinley
Age: 71
Born: 1952
Born: November 16
Author
Novelist
Writer
Warren
Ohio
Jennifer Carolyn Robin McKinley
Angry
Especially
Doesn
Better
Floor
Look
Pace
Looks
Mirrors
Things
Generally
Like
Throw

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People forgot it was in the nature of people to forget, to blur boundaries, to retell stories to come out the way they wanted them to come out, to remember things as how they ought to be instead of how they were.
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What was new was the fact that, despite my heart doing its fight-or-flight, help-we're-prey-and-HEY-STUPID-THAT'S-A-VAMPIRE number, I was glad to see him. Ridiculous but true. Scary but true.
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Vampire. Dangerous. Unknowable. Seriously creepy. This one's name was Constantine. We'd met before.
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But the world turns, and even legends change and somewhere there is a border, and sometime, perhaps, someone will decide to cross it, however well guarded its thorns may be.
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Can you trust me, he said. Not will you. Can you. Can I trust him? What do I have to lose?
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Those single-track military minds never think to ask their cleaning staff for help in giant lethal marauding creature matters.
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...like a grain of sand that gets into an oyster's shell. What if the grain doesn't want to become a pearl? Is it ever asked to climb out quietly and take up its old position as a bit of ocean floor?
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My capacity for invention is flash hot stark, I thought. Sucker sunshade. Disembodied radar-reconnaissance. Not to mention Bitter Chocolate Death and Killer Zebras. Pity about the rest of me.
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It was too important a matter, this talking to people, and listening to them, to do it lightly or often.
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What you describe is how it happens to everyone: magic does slide through you, and disappear, and come back later looking like something else. And I'm sorry to tell you this, but where your magic lives will always be a great dark space with scraps you fumble for. You must learn to sniff them out in the dark.
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I love you. I will love you till the stars crumble, which is a less idle threat than is usual to lovers on parting.
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As I have said, you have no reason to trust me, and an excellent reason not to.
Robin McKinley
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But it was equally clear to her that this was her fate, that she had called its name and it had come to her, and she could do nothing now but own it.
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Everything was an adventure, at night, when you were where you shouldn't be, even if it was somwhere you could go perfectly well in daylight, and it was then only ordinary.
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It seems to me further, that it is very odd that fate should leave so careful a trail, and spend so little time preparing the one that must follow it.
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What I write, if you have to label it, is crossover, and I think that much of the stuff that is called children's or YA is in fact crossover and is equally valid for anyone who likes to read fantasy.
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Tell me who you are. You need not tell me your name. Names have power, even human ones. Tell me where you live and what you do with your living.
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It is a much more straightforward thing to be a dog, and a dog's love, once given, is not reconsidered.
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He didn't look insane or inhuman. He did look uncooperative.
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If you wish, I shall go personally to your City and knock together the heads of Perlith and Galooney.
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