Quotes by Neil Gaiman

There were ten tongues within one head, and one went out to fetch some bread, to feed the living and the dead. What does it mean? A wren made a nest inside the skull of a gibbeted corpse, flying in and out of the jaw to feed its young. In the midst of death, as it were, life just keeps on happening.

... and we held our breath, just for a moment, to see if the world had ended, but it hadnt, so we yawned and drank our champagne and carried on living, except for those of us who died, and everything continued such as before.

I do not remember asking adults about anything, except as a last resort.

There are no whores in Scaithe’s Ebb, or none that consider themselves as such, although there have always been many women who, if pressed, would describe themselves as much-married, with one husband on this ship here every six months, and another husband on that ship, back in port for a month or so every nine months. The mathematics of the thing have always kept most folk satisfied; and if ever it disappoints and a man returns to his wife while one of her other husbands is still in occupancy, why, then there is a fight — and the grog shops to comfort the loser. The sailors do not mind the arrangement, for they know that this way there will, at the least, be one person who, at the last, will notice when they do not come back from the sea, and will mourn their loss; and their wives content themselves with the certain knowledge that their husbands are also unfaithful, for there is no competing with the sea in a man’s affections, since she is both mother and mistress, and she will wash his corpse also, in time to come, wash it to coral and ivory and pearls.

It is a sea of blood. We come from the sea, Tim; our blood is salt, and strange tides ebb and flow within us all.

By March, the worst of the winter would be over. The snow would thaw, the rivers begin to run and the world would wake into itself again.Not that year.Winter hung in there, like an invalid refusing to die. Day after grey day the ice stayed hard; the world remained unfriendly and cold.

I learned the Norse gods came with their own doomsday: Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods, the end of it all. The gods were going to battle the frost giants, and they were all going to die.Had Ragnarok happened yet? Was it still to happen? I did not know then. I am not certain now.

In Muspell, at the edge of the flame, where the mist burns into light, where the land ends, stood Surtr, who existed before the gods. He stands there now...It is said that at Ragnarok, which is the end of the world, and only then, Surtr will leave his station. He will go forth from Muspell with his flaming sword and burn the world with fire, and one by one the gods will fall before him.

There was a grumpy librarian in the library. I could tell that he was the librarian because he seemed to be made of books. I told him that we needed information, and he got us some butterfly nets and sent us up to the top floor of the library.I wondered why we were carrying nets. Valentine didnt know.The book I wanted was pretty obvious. It was called A History of Everything.Finding it was easy. Catching it, however, was not. The moment I reached for it, the whole shelfful of books took off into the air, fluttering like pigeons, and suddenly I knew what the butterfly nets were for.I waved the net about and eventually I caught A History of Everything. As soon as Id got it, all the rest of the books flapped back to their shelf, all except one, a little red-covered book, which fluttered over my head happily.

If he didn’t care about you, you couldn’t upset him,” Liza tells Bod.

...Come home, Bod. ‘I think . . . I said things to Silas. He’ll be angry.’ ‘If he didn’t care about you, you couldn’t upset him,’ was all she said.

Notoriety wasnt as good as fame, but was heaps better than obscurity.

Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isnt it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life… You give them a piece of you. They dont ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isnt your own anymore.

The moments of déjà vu were coming more frequently, now. Moments would stutter and hiccup and falter and repeat. Sometimes whole mornings would repeat. Once I lost a day. Time seemed to be breaking down entirely.

The little mutton-chopped man interrupted them to point out that in his opinion good was not the avoidance of evil, but something more positive than that: it was making the world a better place.

Thats oak leaf, for bravery. Ive got Veronica and Honeysuckle, for fidelity and affection. And thats Peony, for shame. She lives under this rock.Did you make that up by yourself?Course not. Thats the language of flowers. Everyone knows that.No, they dont. I dont.Everyone used to know. They sent each other messages. Like Bluebells means, Ill always love you and Jasmine means Were friends. and Asphodels... Asphodels are for the dead.

It must be a real betrayal, when your body turns against you. I wonder if she likes flowers. All the bits of you that can go wrong...I dont like flowers, not really. I like growing them, but thats only because I like seeing them blossom, and seeing them

I tended to do anything as long as it felt like an adventure, and to stop when it felt like work. Which meant that life did not feel like work.

Do not lose hope - what you seek will be found.

I like stories where women save themselves.