Quotes by Robert Fanney

Leowin: Dont worry Luthiel. Truths existence never depended upon belief.

May your feet ever walk in the light of two suns... and may the moonshadow never fall on you...

Without realizing what she was doing and more on an impulse than anything else, she leaned forward and kissed him. It was a simple, yet firm kiss and she pulled back after only a moment. But it sent a thrill through her. He leaned down for another. But she put her finger on his lips to stop him. That was my reward to you, she said as they danced. Dont squander it. Reward? he asked still seeming both surprised and delighted at this unexpected attention. What for? Why for living, Vaelros. And for doing so much else to help me. I will have you rewarded in state as well. But that was just from me. She saw Vaelros flush and she gave him a brilliant smile. You dont like my reward? she asked. I do! he replied. I want only to learn how to earn more. The music was fading. The song was ending. Luthiel stepped back and let her hands drop. A mysterious thing, my heart, she said.

Silent. So it should be. You have no place in this world, Luthiel. And there is no other. Zalos reached out and lifted a few strands of her hair. Bright songs and the magic of hope are but a dangerous illusion. The fake comfort of witches charms.

Zalos: The world is full of massive things in motion. Little creatures get hurt.

Mithorden said it well, she said finally. Its worshipping death. They say they follow light. But, in the end, theyre really following desolation, division, the end of things. You should hear their prophecies -- war, destruction, only special chosen people are spared. She felt sad and angry. Worse, she wondered to what ends people who believed these things would go to assert their views.

I would rather live than die. I would rather die than survive as a monster.

If Christ taught us anything it is this -- not to let our fear of death keep us from doing the good thing.

Vanye: Youre asking me to kill you.Luthiel: Im asking you to save her.

If I could make a dream real, I would not kill anything unless it could never be changed at heart.

Writers shouldnt fear criticism. Instead, they should fear silence. Criticism is healthy. It gets people thinking about your work and, even better, it gets them talking and arguing. But as for silence -- it is the greatest killer of writers. So if you hate a book and want to hurt it -- dont talk about it. And if you hate my books -- please, for Gods sake, shout it from the hills!

It has been often said that writing is 99 percent perspiration and 1 percent inspiration. In my experience, this is true. But, in my opinion, it is useless without that 1 percent. Its like an engine without fuel -- cant get anywhere without it. Or like a lighthouse without a light on top -- doesnt guide anyone in to home or safe harbor.

In my experience, nothing worthwhile has ever really been all that easy. But it certainly has been worthwhile regardless how difficult it seemed.

Courage is not the absence of fear or despair; it is the capacity to continue on despite them, no matter how great or overwhelming they become.

Wars are won in the will.

Someone smashed a flutterfler and without even thinking she touched her Stone and used Wyrd to piece its broken body back together. She filled its empty vessels with dreams and it became the stuff it used for blood. It brushed her cheek with its wings, then flew off -- dancing in the hot air.

Othalas: Words. What are they but shadows on a page or howling on the wind? They are as ever-changing as the mists below us and it is just as easy to lose sense of yourself among them. I am older than most sorcerers so what I know may, indeed, be close to the truth. Magic, wyrd, words, dreams, they all come from the spirit. Within them lie both power and peril. For to misuse any is to warp your sense of self. To lie in words, or in magic, or in dreams -- that is how you become lost. The lights you see, they were lost long before they came to the Vale.

We must be careful what we imagine, fear, or hope for. The echoes of our thought live on in eternity.

There are very few things that live in both this world and the world of dreams. Most are gods, angels and demons. The Stone you hold was made by Vlad Valkire the son of an angel and a demon. By the divine blood that ran in his veins, Valkire could see the light and hear the song of creation -- if only as glimmerings and whispers. Over time, he became aware of the light and the music and as he grew so did his understanding of it. At the age of twenty two, he began his greatest labor -- the making of the Wyrd Stones. In them he captured the light and song of creation and by them some of the powers of gods, angels and demons fell into the hands of elves and men. A sorcerer who knows its secret may -- like a god, angel, or demon -- stand with one foot in this world and another within the world of dreams. Your Stone is a gateway into the world of dreams, Luthiel. When you sing, it opens and you are, in part, taken there. Others who hold a Wyrd Stone like yours may know when someone crosses into dream. When you sang, I could hear you quite clearly.

Is there magic in this world? Certainly! But it is not the kind of magic written about in fantasy stories. It is the kind of magic that comes from ideas and the hard work it often takes to make them real.