I mean only that I hope they find darkness or paradise without fear of it, if they can.
A woman I should like to think I know rather well and a woman I had always considered a mystery, are in fact the same person.
Scent is often underestimated, when it can be the most evocative.
Her father picks different names for her as they change locales, but he uses Miranda often, presumably because he knows how much it annoys her.
They are a bunch of fish covered in feathers trying to convince the public they can fly, and I am simply a bird in their midst.
I saw in details while she saw in scope. Not seeing the scope is why I am here and she is not. I took each element spearately and never looked to see that they never did fit together properly
And then he tells her stories. Myths he learned from his instructor. Fantasies he created himself, inspired by bits and pieces of others read in archaic books with crackling spines.
She turns her head, Bailey catches her eye, and she smiles at him. Not in the way that one smiles at a random member of the audience when one is in the middle of performing circus tricks with unusually talented kittens but in the way that one smiles when one recognizes someone they have not seen in some time.
I am haunted by the ghost of my father, I think that should allow me to quote Hamlet as much as I please.
This is, in part, why there is less magic in the world today. Magic is secret and secrets are magic, after all, and years upon years of teaching and sharing magic and worse. Writing it down in fancy books that get all dusty with age has lessened it, removed its power bit by bit.
I think looking forward will be better than looking back.
And there are never really endings, happy or otherwise. Things keep going on, they overlap and blur, your story is part of your sister's story is part of many other stories, and there is no telling where any of them may lead.
Someone needs to tell those tales...There's magic in that. It's in the listener, and for each and every ear it will be different, and it will affect them in ways they can never predict. From the mundane to the profound. You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone's soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words.
I cannot let a place that is so important to so many people fade away. Something that is wonder and comfort and mystery all together that they have nowhere else. If you had that, wouldn't you want to keep it? p.316
Trespassers Will Be Exsanguinated.
If she were gone I would be nothing. You should think better of yourself than to settle for that.
Better to have a single perfect diamond than a sack of flawed stones.
That's the beauty of it. Have you seen the contraptions these magicians build to accomplish the most mundane feats? They are a bunch of fish covered in feathers trying to convince the public they can fly, I am simply a bird in their midst.
I couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what I wanted to be real.
We are two different people, Ethan. Just because you could never decide which one of us you were in love with does not make us interchangeable.
It's too late. It was too late by the time I arrived in London to turn your notebook into a dove; there were too many people already involved. Anything either of us does has an effect on everyone here, on every patron who walks through those gates. Hundreds if not thousands of people. All flies in a spiderweb that was spun when I was six years old and now I can barely move for fear of losing someone else.
But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares.
The boy spends most of his time reading. And writing, of course. He copies out sections of books, writes out words and symbols he does not understand at first but that become intimately familiar beneath his ink-stained fingers, formed again and again in increasingly steady lines.
I didn't know your identity, but I had an impression of who my opponent was, being surrounded by things you made.
We lead strange lives, chasing our dreams from place to place
Like stepping into a fairy tale under a curtain of stars.
But you built me dreams instead.
The circus arrives without a warning.
I do not like sitting idly by when something clearly isn't right. I feel... not trapped but something like it, and I don't know what to about.
Wine is bottled poetry, he thinks.
More Erin Morgenstern Quotations (Based on Topics)
People - Time - Fear - Education - Fathers - World - Abilities - Majority & Minority - Thought & Thinking - Librarian - Happiness - Sense & Perception - Purposes - Writing - Adventure - Manner - Light - Heroism - Soul - View All Erin Morgenstern Quotations
More Erin Morgenstern Quotations (By Book Titles)
- The Night Circus
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