Quotes by Garth Nix

“For all my longer works (i.e the novels) I write chapter outlines so I can have the pleasure of departing from them later on.”

Touchstone watched, suddenly conscious that he probably only had five seconds left to be alone with Sabriel, to say something, to say anything. Perhaps the last five seconds they ever would have alone together.I am not afraid, he said to himself.I love you, he whispered. I hope you dont mind.

My parents are going to kill me!That seems rather harsh...

When the dead do walk seek waters run,for this the Dead will always shun. Swift rivers best or broadest laketo ward the dead and have and make.If water fails thee, fires thy friend, if neither guards it will be thy end.

Death and what came after death was no great mystery to Sabriel. She just wished it was.

Time and death sleep side by side.

For all my longer works (i.e. the novels) I write chapter outlines so I can have the pleasure of departing from them later on.

Knowledge, like all things, is best in moderation, intoned the Will. Knowing everything means you dont need to think, and that is very dangerous.

Time plays tricks between here and home, said Mogget sepulchrally, frightening the life out of the telephone operator.

The visions are fragmented and a dark cloud spreads like spilt ink across the pages of possible futures.

Fear and realisation of ignorance, strong medicines against stupid pride.

But think of how much worse it would be to sit here, not knowing. Until the Dead choke the Ratterlin and Hedge walks across the dry bed of the river to batter down the door.

The Clayr saw me, the Wallmaker made me, the King quenched me, the Abhorsen wields me so that no Dead shall walk in Life. For this is not their path.

Maybe if I act well enough, Ill come to believe it myself.

As for you, Private, if you mention a word of this to anyone, Ill feed you to the cat thing here. Understand?Yum, said Mogget.Yes, sir! mumbled the telephone operator, his hands shaking as he tried to smother the burning wreckage of his switchboard with a fire blanket.

I can see time, whispered Mogget, so softly that his words were lost.

Even now, she wished she could write a note, push it across the table, and go away to her room. But she was no longer a Second Assistant Librarian of the Great Library of the Clayr. Those days were gone, vanished with everything else that had defined her previous existence and identity.

Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?

‎It always seemed somehow less real here... a really detailed dream, but sort of washed out, like a thin watercolor. Softer, somehow, even with their electric light and engines and everything. I guess it was because there was hardly any magic.

It was like someone far away calling someone else’s name.