Quotes by Diane Duane

“What I try to do for my readers is to pass on some of the things that I found out about being thirteen after doing it for forty years.”

“Yes, limits can be self-imposed. But, as regards space, especially, theyre starting to dwindle. It can be the same way for people.”

“The issues of the choice between right and wrong has to be an ongoing concern for everybody, at every age. There is no magical point in a human life when anyone is or becomes immune to the second-by-second choice to do right instead of wrong.”

“What teens will realize is always a mystery to me. Im still realizing so many things myself, very belatedly, that it seems unwise to think I have any right to be showing people things in hopes that theyll realize them.”

Believe something and the Universe is on its way to being changed. Because youve changed, by believing. Once youve changed, other things start to follow. Isnt that the way it works?

Beware! said the peridxiss voice in her head. Dont let Its shadowy little truth overwhelm the greater one.

Must I accept the barren Gift?-learn death, and lose my Mastery?Then let them know whose blood and breathwill take the Gift and set them free:whose is the voice and whose the mindto set at naught the well-sung Game-when finned Finality arrivesand calls me by my secret Name.Not old enough to love as yet,but old enough to die, indeed--the death-fear bites my throat and heart,fanged cousin to the Pale Ones breed.But past the fear lies life for all-perhaps for me: and, past my dread,past loss of Mastery and life,the Sea shall yet give up Her dead!Lone Power, I accept your Gift!Freely I make death a part of me;By my accept it is boundinto the lives of all the Sea-yet what I do now binds to ita gift I feel of equal worth:I take Death with me, out of Time,and make of it a path, a birth!Let the teeth come! As they tear me,they tear Your ancient hate for aye--so rage, proud Power! Fail again,and see my blood teach Death to die!

There is a rule for fantasy writers: The more truth you mix in with a lie, the stronger it gets.

Nobody played poker with Mike Walsh--at least, not twice--but people fought to get aboard Constellation. Her command record since Mike took her was almost the equal of Enterprises for danger, daring, and success not only snatched from the jaws of failure, but afterward used to beat failure over the head.

(True,) the white hole said. (My name is Khairelikoblepharehglukumeilichephreidosdenagouni-) and at the same time he went flickering through a pattern of colors that was evidently the visual translation.

Reading one book is like eating one potato chip.

Belief made no difference to the truth.

Dont be afraid to make corrections, Picchu said. Dont be afraid to lend a hand. She fell silent, seeming to think for a moment. And dont look down.

She strolled between shelves, looking at titles, smiling as she met old friends - books she had read three times or five times or a dozen. Just a title, or an authors name, would be enough to summon up happy images. Strange creatures like phoenixes and psammeads, moving under smokey London daylight of a hundred years before, in company with groups of bemused children; starships and new worlds and the limitless vistas of interstellar night, outer space challenged but never conquered; princesses in silver and golden dresses, princes and heroes carrying swords like sharpened lines of light, monsters rising out of weedy tarns, wild creatures that talked and tricked one another...

Most people think its normal to have a nameless sorrow at the bottom of your soul.

All the drawing lacksis the final touch: To addeyes to the dragon

When honor dies—when trust is a useless thing—what use is life?

Become careless with fire, and sure enough, fire will burn you. Do treachery, and treachery will be done you. Kill, and be punished with death. All these Ive done. Now I pay the price, in my own flesh and blood.

Blood in the water I sing, and one who shed it: deadliest hunger I sing, and one who fed it- weaving the ancient-most tale of the Seas sending: singing the tragedy, singing the joy unending This is our shame- this is the whole Oceans glory: this is the Song of the Twelve. Hark to the story! Hearken, and bring it to pass: swift lest the sorrow long ago laid to its rest devour us tomarrow!

If you see an injustice, and don’t move to right it when you have a chance, history won’t forget that, either.