In a perfect world, you could fuck people without giving them a piece of your heart. And every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh is another shard of heart you’ll never see again.
NEIL GAIMANBlack as night, sweet as sin.
More Neil Gaiman Quotes
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Nobody looks like what they really are on the inside. You don’t. I don’t. People are much more complicated than that. It’s true of everybody.
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Rule number one: Don’t fuck with librarians.
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Anyone who believes what a cat tells him deserves all he gets.
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You don’t have to stay anywhere forever.
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What I say is, a town isn’t a town without a bookstore. It may call itself a town, but unless it’s got a bookstore, it knows it’s not foolin’ a soul.
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That which is dreamed can never be lost, can never be undreamed.
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Everybody has a secret world inside of them. I mean everybody. All of the people in the whole world, I mean everybody – no matter how dull and boring they are on the outside.
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People want to forget the impossible. It makes their world safer.
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The house smelled musty and damp, and a little sweet, as if it were haunted by the ghosts of long-dead cookies.
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We often confuse what we wish for with what is.
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You don’t get explanations in real life. You just get moments that are absolutely, utterly, inexplicably odd.
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I am selfish, private, and easily bored. Will this be a problem?
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Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes and forgot.
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He had noticed that events were cowards: they didn’t occur singly, but instead they would run in packs and leap out at him all at once.
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I lived in books more than I lived anywhere else.
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I liked myths. They weren’t adult stories and they weren’t children’s stories. They were better than that. They just were.
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To absent friends, lost loves, old gods, and the season of mists; and may each and every one of us always give the devil his due.
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Not only are there no happy endings,’ she told him, ‘there aren’t even any endings.
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Being a writer is a very peculiar sort of a job: it’s always you versus a blank sheet of paper (or a blank screen) and quite often the blank piece of paper wins.
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An Angel who did not so much fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards.
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This is how you do it: you sit down at the keyboard and you put one word after another until it’s done. It’s that easy, and that hard.
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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.
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I don’t want whatever I want. Nobody does. Not really. What kind of fun would it be if I just got everything I ever wanted just like that, and it didn’t mean anything? What then?
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Black as night, sweet as sin.
NEIL GAIMAN -
Every lover is, in his heart, a madman, and, in his head, a minstrel.
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A book is a dream that you hold in your hands.
NEIL GAIMAN