The governess was not much liked in the village. She was too tall, too fond of books, too grave, and, a curious thing, never smiled unless there was something to smile at.
Susanna ClarkeHe smiles but rarely and watches other men to see when they laugh and then does the same.
Susanna ClarkeThere is nothing else in magic but the wild thought of the bird as it casts itself into the void. There is no creature upon the earth with such potential for magic. Even the least of them may fly straight out of this world and come by chance to the Other Lands. Where does the wind come from that blows upon your face, that fans the pages of your book? Where the harum-scarum magic of small wild creatures meets the magic of Man, where the language of the wind and the rain and the trees can be understood, there we will find the Raven King.
Susanna ClarkeMots clés nature fantasy magic
Some time later there was a knock at his door. He was surprised to find it was now evening and the room was quite dark. The knock sounded again. The landlord was at the door. The landlord began to talk, but Strange could not understand him. This was because the man had a pineapple in his mouth. How he had managed to cram the whole thing in there, Strange could not imagine. Green, spiky leaves emerged slowly out of his mouth and then were sucked back in again as he spoke. Strange wondered if perhaps he ought to go and fetch a knife or a hook and try and fish the pineapple out, in case the landlord should choke. But at the same time he did not care much about it. 'After all,' he thought with some irritation, 'it is his own fault. He put it there.
Susanna ClarkeMots clés humor hallucination pineapple
And how shall I think of you?' He considered a moment and then laughed. 'Think of me with my nose in a book!
Susanna ClarkeBut that is not to say that there might not be someone in the world - I do not say I have seen him yet - whom I would be a little afraid to look at sometimes - for fear that he might be looking sad - or lost - or thoughtful, or - what, you know, might seem the worst of all - brooding on some private anger or hurt and so not knowing or caring if I looked at him at all.
Susanna ClarkeHe thought he stood upon an English hillside. Rain was falling; it twisted in the air like grey ghosts. Rain fell upon him and he grew thin as rain. Rain
washed away thought, washed away memory, all the good and the bad. He no longer knew his name. Everything was washed away like mud from a stone. Rain filled him up with thoughts and memories of its own. Silver lines of water covered the hillside, like intricate lace, like the veins of an arm. Forgetting that he was, or ever had been, a man, he became the lines of water. He fell into the earth with the rain.
He thought he lay beneath the earth, beneath England. Long ages passed; cold and rain seeped through him; stones shifted within him. In the Silence and the Dark he grew vast.
He became the earth; he became England. A star looked down on him and spoke to
him.
A stone asked him a question and he answered it in its own language. A river
curled at his side; hills budded beneath his fingers. He opened his mouth and breathed out spring.
He thought he was pressed into a thicket in a dark wood in winter. The trees went on for
Over dark pillars separated by thin, white slices of winter light. He looked
down. Young saplings pierced him through and through; they grew up through his body, through his feet and hands. His eye-lids would no longer close because twigs had grown up through them.
I only wish he had not married," said Mr. Norell fretfully. "Magicians have no business marrying.
Susanna ClarkeI know magicians and I know magic and I say this: all magicians lie and this one more than most.
Susanna ClarkeHe gave her his heart. She took it and placed it quietly in the pocket of her gown. No one observed what she did.
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