Quotes by Neil Gaiman

Gods are great, said Atsula, slowly, as if she were imparting a great secret. But the heart is greater. For it is from our hearts they come, and to our hearts they shall return...

Only the Gods are real.

He is tolerated by the gods, perhaps because his stratagems and plans save them as often as they get them into trouble.Loki makes the world more interesting but less safe. He is the father of monsters, the author of woes, the sly god.

Gods are great, said Atsula, slowly, as if she were comprehending a great secret. But the heart is greater. For it is from our hearts they come, and to our hearts they shall return...

It was a survival thing: he didnt answer back, didnt say anything about job security for prison guards, debate the nature of repentance, rehabilitation, or rates of recidivism. He didnt say anything funny or clever, and, to be on the safe side, when he was talking to a prison official, whenever possible, he didnt say anything at all. Speak when youre spoken to. Do your own time. Get out. Go home. ... Rebuild a life.

Organizing gods is like herding cats into straight lines. They dont take naturally to it.

Listen, gods die when they are forgotten. People too. But the lands still here. The good places, and the bad. The land isnt going anywhere. And neither am I.

Google can bring you back 100,000 answers. A librarian can bring you back the right one.

Im going to tell you something important. Grown-ups dont look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside, theyre big and thoughtless and they always know what theyre doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. The truth is, there arent any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world.

Be hole, be dust, be dream, be wind/Be night, be dark, be wish, be mind,/Now slip, now slide, now move unseen,/Above, beneath, betwixt, between.

Do not fear the ghosts in this house; theyare the least of your worries.Personally I find the noises they make reassuring,The creaks and footsteps in the night,their little tricks of hiding things,or moving them, I findendearing, not upsettling. It makes the placefeel so much more like a home.Inhabited.

Never trust a demon. He has a hundred motives for anything he does ... Ninety-nine of them, at least, are malevolent.

As we write we summon little demons.

I could be blindfolded and dropped into the deepest ocean and I would know where to find you. I could be buried a hundred miles underground and I would know where you are.

Although I was an imaginative child, prone to nightmares, I had persuaded my parents to take me to Madame Tussauds waxworks in London, when I was six, because I had wanted to visit the Chamber of Horrors, expecting the movie-monster Chambers of Horrors Id read about in my comics. I had wanted to thrill to waxworks of Dracula and Frankensteins Monster and the Wolf-man. Instead I was walked through a seemingly endless sequence of dioramas of unremarkable, glum-looking men and women who had murdered people - usually lodgers and members of their own families - and who were then murdered in turn: by handing, by the electric chair, in gas chambers. Most of them were depicted with their victims in awkward social situations - seated about a dinner table, perhaps, as their poisoned family members expired. The plaques that explained who they were also told me that the majority of them had murdered their families and sold the bodies to anatomy. It was then that the word anatomy garnered its own edge of horror for me. I did not know what anatomy was. I knew only that anatomy made people kill their children.

I dont 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 didnt mean anything? What then?

Frogs, ducks, rhinos, octopuses – whatever you desire. The world will be built new for you every morning. If you stay here, you can have whatever you want.’ Coraline sighed. ‘You really don’t understand, do you?’ she said. ‘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?

It has been said that civilization is twenty-four hours and two meals away from barbarism.

There was a table laid with jellies and trifles, with a party hat beside each place, and a birthday cake with seven candles on it in the center of the table. The cake had a book drawn on it, in icing. My mother, who had organized the party, told me that the lady at the bakery said that they had never put a book on a birthday cake before, and that mostly for boys it was footballs or spaceships. I was their first book.

Hed been a shy, quiet, bookish kid, and that had been painful; now he was a big dumb guy, and nobody expected him to be able to do anything more than move a sofa into the next room on his own.