BOOK STARTERS VOL.50 SMOKE AND MIRRORS NEIL GAIMAN
❛ When I was a child, adults would tell me not to make things up, warning me of what would happen if I did. ❜
❛ My memory is a patchwork of occurrences, of discontinuous events roughly sewn together: the parts I remember, I remember precisely, whilst other sections seem to have vanished completely. ❜
❛ Would it be worse to love someone who is no longer there, or not to love someone who is? ❜
❛ Like mirrors stories prepare us for the day to come. They distract us from the things in darkness. ❜
❛ It is not that I was credulous, simply that I believed in all things dark and dangerous. ❜
❛ Sometimes you do things you regret, but there’s nothing you can do about them. Times change. Doors close behind you. You move on. ❜
❛ Love will be an impulse that will inspire and ruin in equal measure. ❜
❛ He died alone. It don’t matter a rat’s ass whether there was anyone with him or not. He died alone. ❜
❛ It was love, I knew, and it tasted like champagne in my mind. ❜
❛ The end of the world is a strange concept. The world is always ending, and the end is always being averted, by love or foolishness or just plain old dumb luck. ❜
❛ She was my dream; and if you touch a dream it vanishes, like a soap bubble. ❜
❛ Daylight is always safe. ❜
❛ If not for death, they’d be content to simply exist, but with death, well, their lives will have meaning. ❜
❛ You want to know the future, love? Then wait. ❜
❛ There are things in the darkness beneath us that wish us harm. ❜
❛ Fairy tales are more than true. Not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be defeated ❜
❛ But sometimes you leave blood on your instruments. ❜
❛ I’d like to be a wolf. Not all the time. Just sometimes. In the dark. I would run through the forests. ❜
❛ You’ve seen them. They have mouths that twitch, and eyes that stare, and they babble and they mewl and they whimper. ❜
❛ They are not mad, or rather, the loss of their sanity is the lesser of their problems. ❜
❛ Good a reason for writing as I know: releasing demons, letting them fly. ❜
❛ That miserable state in which everything seems flat and of equal importance; when nothing matters, and in which reality seems scraped thin and threadbare. ❜
❛ Someone had scrawled graffiti in black marker on the metal: JUST DIE, it said. Like it is easy. ❜
❛ Winter started today. The sky turned grey and the snow began to fall and it did not stop falling until well after dark. ❜
❛ Memory is the great deceiver. ❜
