Tristan and Yvaine were happy together. Not forever-after, for Time, the thief, eventually takes all things into his dusty storehouse, but they were happy, as these things go, for a long while
Neil GaimanIt was sort of like Macbeth, thought Fat Charlie, an hour later; in fact, if the witches in Macbeth had been four little old ladies and if, instead of stirring cauldrons and intoning dread incantations, they had just welcomed Macbeth in and fed him turkey and rice and peas spread out on white china plates on a red-and-white patterned plastic tablecloth -- not to mention sweet potato pudding and spice cabbage -- and encouraged him to take second helpings, and thirds, and then, when Macbeth had declaimed that nay, he was stuffed nigh unto bursting and on his oath could truly eat no more, the witches had pressed upon him their own special island rice pudding and a large slice of Mrs. Bustamonte's famous pineapple upside-down cake, it would have been exactly like Macbeth.
Neil GaimanThat which is dreamed can never be lost, can never be undreamed.
Neil GaimanTag: dream
Nice' in a bodyguard is about as useful as the ability to regurgitate whole lobsters.
Neil GaimanAnd if there's a moral there, I don't know what it is, save maybe that we should take our goodbyes whenever we can.
Neil GaimanMostra la citazione in tedesco
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All we have to believe with is our senses, the tools we use to perceive the world: our sight, our touch, our memory. If they lie to us, then nothing can be trusted. And even if we do not believe, then still we cannot travel in any other way than the road our senses show us; and we must walk that road to the end.
Neil GaimanTag: englis-author
Liberty," boomed Wednesday, as they walked to the car, "is a bitch who must be bedded on a mattress of corpses.
Neil GaimanTag: liberty
Coraline shivered. She preferred her other mother to have a location: if she were nowhere, then she could be anywhere. And, after all, it is always easier to be afraid of something you cannot see.
Neil GaimanWhere does contagion end and art begin?
Neil GaimanEven the proudest spirit can be broken with love.
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