...it's as empty as a merchant's soul. Sorry, Kheldar, it's just an old expression." "That's all right, Beldin," Silk forgave him grandly. "These little slips of the tongue are common in the very elderly.
Start early and work hard. A writer's apprenticeship usually involves writing a million words (which are then discarded) before he's almost ready to begin. That takes a while.
Behold Vo Mimbre," Mandorallen proclaimed with pride, "queen of cities. Upon that rock the tide of Angarak crashed and recoiled and crashed again. Upon this field met they their ruin. The soul and pride of Arendia doth reside within that fortress and the power of the Dark One may not prevail against it." "We've been here before, Mendorallen," Mister Wolf said sourly.
I'm a storyteller, not a prophet. I'm just interested in a good story.
I thought you said you were the one in charge!" Ce'Nedra exclaimed. I lied." Silk said. "It's a vice I have.
The whole world is beautiful, Belgarion' Eriond assured him in response to that unspoken thought. 'You just have to know how to look at it
Vanity's ridiculous, but we all fall prey to it from time to time.
Now what?” Urgit warily asked his bride-to-be. “Am I disturbing your Majesty?” Prala asked. “…You always disturb me, my beloved,” he answered her question, spreading his arms extravagantly.
Nobles and peasants marry early. Businessmen tend to wait.
All social workers want is to get everyone involved in a programme. Because a programme provides full employment for three generations of social workers. And they mess up.
I get up at an unholy hour in the morning my work day is completed by the time the sun rises. I have a slightly bad back which has made an enormous contribution to American literature.
Belgarath turned back to Senji. “All right,” he said. “The Sardion came to Zamad. How?” “It’s said to have fallen out of the sky.” “They always do,” Beldin said. “Someday I’d like to see something rise up out of the earth –just for the sake of variety.
What happened to your foot?" "I had a little disagreement with an eagle --stupid birds, eagles. He couldn't tell the difference between a hawk and a pigeon. I had to educate him. He bit me while I was tearing out a sizable number of his wing feathers." "Uncle," Polgara said reproachfully. "He started it.
I'm truly amazed at you, Garion," Polgara said. "I didn't think you had the faintest idea of how to speak a civilized language." "Thank you," he said, "I think.
Young people, however, tend to ignore the customs of their elders. Adolescent rebellion has been responsible for all manner of absurd costumes. The more ridiculous a certain fashion is, the more adolescents will cling to it.
Isn't it easier to forgive than to hate? Until we learn how to forgive, that sort of thing is going to keep on happening." He pointed at the tall pillars of smoke rising to the north. "Hate is a sterile thing, Belgarion.
Someday I’d like to see something rise up out of the earth –just for the sake of variety.
The real world out there isn't nearly as nice as some people prefer it to be, so don't swallow everything your high-born teachers tell you without takinga long hard look at it yourselves.
I must admit that I haven't heard of the Duchess of Erat before." "You're a fortunate man," Wolf said. "She's a great beauty," the man said admiringly. "And has a temper to match," Wolf told him. "I noticed that," the guard said. "We noticed you noticing," Silk told him slyly.
Who owns a man, Durnik?” the blond young man asked sadly. “The one who rules him, or the one who pays him?
Behold the Drojim Palace," King Urgit said extravagantly to Sadi, "the hereditary home of the House of Urga." "A most unusual structure, You Majesty," Sadi murmured. "That's a diplomatic way to put it." Urgit looked critically at his palace. "It's gaudy, ugly, and in terribly bad taste. It does, however, suit my personality almost perfectly.
I hesitate to predict whether this theory is true. But if the general opinion of Mankind is optimistic then we're in for a period of extreme popularity for science fiction.
It's the nature of man to ask questions. --Belgarath
I want a sword not a knitting needle -Kalen
The first thing the boy Garion remembered was the kitchen at Faldor's farm. For all the rest of his life he had a special warm feeling for kitchens and those peculiar sounds and smells that seemed somehow to combine into a bustling seriousness that had to do with love and food and comfort and security and, above all, home. No matter how high Garion rose in life, he never forgot that all his memories began in that kitchen.
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