I am an academic," said Professor Mandalay, "and thus have no finely developed senses that would be comprehensible to anyone who has not ever needed to grade papers without actually reading the blessed things.
Neil GaimanThere are a hundred things she has tried to chase away the things she won't remember and that she can't even let herself think about because that's when the birds scream and the worms crawl and somewhere in her mind it's always raining a slow and endless drizzle.
You will hear that she has left the country, that there was a gift she wanted you to have, but it is lost before it reaches you. Late one night the telephone will sign, and a voice that might be hers will say something that you cannot interpret before the connection crackles and is broken.
Several years later, from a taxi, you will see someone in a doorway who looks like her, but she will be gone by the time you persuade the driver to stop. You will never see her again.
Whenever it rains you will think of her.
Stichwörter: rain missed-connections
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We are small but we are many
We are many we are small
We were here before you rose
We will be here when you fall
Stichwörter: lyrics gaiman coraline
We have teeth and we have tails
We have tails we have eyes
We were here before you fell
We will be here when you rise.
Stichwörter: lyrics gaiman coraline
We have eyes and we have nerveses
We have tails we have teeth
You'll all get what you deserveses
When we rise from underneath.
Stichwörter: lyrics gaiman coraline
Potentially evil. Potentially good, too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality waiting to be shaped.
Neil GaimanFiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through other eyes. And then in the tale we stop before we die, or we die vicariously and unharmed, and in the world beyond the tale we turn the page or close the book, and we resume our lives.
Neil GaimanStichwörter: lose-yourself
He wondered whether home was a thing that happened to a place after a while, or if it was something that you found in the end, if you simply walked and waited and willed it long enough.
Neil GaimanSuppose we pick a name for him, eh?"
Caius Pompeius stepped over and eyed the child. "He looks a little like my proconsul, Marcus. We could call him Marcus."
Josiah Worthington said, "He looks more like my head gardener, Stebbins. Not that I'm suggesting Stebbins as a name. The man drank like a fish."
"He looks like my nephew Harry," said Mother Slaughter...
"He looks like nobody but himself," said Mrs.Owens, firmly. "He looks like nobody."
"Then Nobody it is," said Silas. "Nobody Owens.
Stichwörter: names christening
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
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