Quotes by Charles de Lint

Once upon a time there was what there was, and if nothing had happened there would be nothing to tell.

Growing up, Id already decided I wanted to be a beatnik. A Bohemian poet, I thought. Or a musician. Maybe an artist. Id dress in black turtlenecks and smoke Gitanes. Id listen to cool jazz in clubs, getting up to read devastating truths from my notebook, leaning against the microphone, cigarette dangling from my hand.

We end up stumbling our way through the forest, never seeing all the unexpected and wonderful possibilities and potentials because were looking for the idea of a tree, instead of appreciating the actual trees in front of us.

I hate the thought of her being forced into a box that doesnt fit her. Of having her wings cut off, her sight blinded, her hearing muted, her voice stilled.

Can you remember how you felt when you were communicating through your artwork? Not just the sense of completion, but the sense of rightness- the sense that you had brought to life something that could live beyond your sphere of being, that held in it far more potential than you ever realized you were imbuing in the work?

Theres more to life than just surviving . . . but . . . sometimes just surviving is all you get

Im not... Angharad began, but then she thought. Not what? Not a bad person? Perhaps. But had she never known anger? Never held unkind thoughts? The strangers observation was valid. No one was innocent of darkness.

If you cherish something enough, she told me, it doesnt matter how old or worn or useless its become; your caring for it immediately raises its value in somebody elses eyes. Its just like rehab- a bodys got to believe in their own worth before anybody can start fixing them, but most people need someone to believe in them before they can start believing in themselves.

Life is like art. You have to work hard to keep it simple and still have meaning.

The best artists know what to leave out.

The beginning of a friendship, the fact that two people out of the thousands around them can meet and connect and become friends, seems like a kind of magic to me. But maintaining a friendship requires work. I dont mean that as a bad thing. Good art requires work as well.

Often the magical elements in my books are standing in for elements of the real world, the small and magical-in-their-own-right sorts of things that we take for granted and no longer pay attention to, like the bonds of friendship that entwine our own lives with those of other people and places.

I want to touch the heart of the world and make it smile.