Freedom is an illusion. It always comes at a price.

And then, as if written by the hand of a bad novelist, an incredible thing happened.

That's usually how they start, the young ones. Meaningless waffle.

Then again, Solomon was human. And that meant he was flawed (Go on, take a look at yourself in the mirror. A good long look, if you can bear it. See? Flawed's putting it mildly, isn't it?)

One magician demanded I show him an image of the love of his life. I rustled up a mirror.

That's usuаllу hоw thеу start, thе young оnеs. Meaningless waffle.

The Amulet of Samarkand. It was Simon Lovelace's. Now it is yours. Soon it will be Simon Lovelace's again. Take it and enjoy the consequences.

Can you define "plan" as "a loose sequence of manifestly inadequate observations and conjectures, held together by panic, indecision, and ignorance"? If so, it was a very good plan.

That's a gesture of endearment in some cultures. Some hug, some kiss, some set each other on fire in small patches of woodland

When I write something that would have made me laugh as a 10-year-old, or would have scared me or would have excited me, I know I'm onto something.

Haven't you done enough for a lifetime? Think about it - two power - crazed magicians killed, a hundred power - crazed magicians saved.

Everyone needs beauty. Even beautiful people"From "Central Park Song

Everybody has a high point and a lot goes into that: timing, situation, general consciousness.

Well, I think the best form would be to put money directly in the pockets of consumers.

As the middle class is predated upon with an ever greater malicious intensity, their children stand to lose more and harder than their parents ever did.

When commercial capital occupies a position of unquestioned ascendancy, it everywhere constitutes a system of plunder.

I don't want to do something that I've done before; I can't see the point of it.

The warrior knows that he is free to choose his desires, and he makes these decisions with courage, detachment, and - sometimes - with just a touch of madness.

Real love is not an escape from loneliness, real love is an overflowing aloneness. One is so happy in being alone that one wud like to share.

If I wasn't hard, I wouldn't be alive. If I couldn't ever be gentle, I wouldn't deserve to be alive.

It is never right to do wrong or to requite wrong with wrong, or when we suffer evil to defend ourselves by doing evil in return.