It may merely be apocryphal that when the Wizard saw the glass bottle he gasped, and clutched his heart. The story is told in so many ways, depending on who is doing the telling, and what needs to be heard at the time. It is a matter of history, however, that shortly thereafter, the Wizard absconded from the Palace. He left in the way he had first arrived-- a hot-air balloon-- just a few hours before seditious ministers were to lead a Palace revolt and to hold an execution without trial.
The truth isn't a thing of fact or reason. It is simply what everyone agrees on.
All these last months he had begun to talk about Sarima and the family as if they were ghosts, hiding just around the curve of the spiral staircase in the tower, suppressing giggles at this long, long game of hide-and-seek.
She dropped her shyness like a nightgown, and in the liquid glare of sunlight on old boards she held up her hands-as if, in the terror of the upcoming skirmish, she had at last understood that she was beautiful. In her own way.
When the times are a crucible, when the air is full of crisis, those who are the most themselves are the victims.
Galinda didn't often stop to consider whether she believed in what she said or not; the whole point of conversations was flow.
The cunning old cow, thought Melena. She is trying that rarest of strategies, telling the truth, and making it sound plausible.
Just follow that one road the whole time!... I hope they don't get lost, I'm so bad at giving directions..
The wickedness of men is that their power breeds stupidity and blindness.
And girls need cold anger. They need the cold simmer, the ceaseless grudge, the talent to avoid forgiveness, the side stepping of compromise. They need to know when they say something that they will never back down,ever, ever.
Where I'm from, we believe in all sorts of things that aren't true... we call it history.
Her sister's shoes. They sparkeled even in the darkening afternoon. They sparkeled like yellow diamonds, and embers of blood and thorny stars.
No one controls your destiny. Even at the very worst - there is always choice.
And in the cave there lived a wicked old witch. Did she ever some out? Not yet.
She watched the sun bleed water out of the icicle. Warm and cold working together to make an icicle. Warm and cold anger working together to make a fury, a fury worthy enough to use as a weapon against the old things that still needed fighting.
Yet who can say how our souls have been stamped by witnessing such a cruel drama? All souls are hostages to their human envelopes, but souls must decay and suffer at such indignity, don't you agree?
His avenging angel had come to call him home. A suicide was waiting for him back in his own world, and by now he ought to have learned enough to get through it successfully.
The melody faded like a rainbow after a storm, or like winds calming down at last; and what was left was calm, and possibility, and relief.
Then, abrupt and decisive, the Emerald City rose before them. A city of insistence, of blanket declaration. It made no sense, clotting up the horizon, sprouting like a mirage on the characterless plains of central Oz. Glinda hated it from the moment she saw it. Brash upstart of a city.
The moon passed overhead in its path from the Vinkus, and she felt its accusatory spotlight, and moved back from the tall windows.
There may be no city in the clouds, but dreaming of it can enliven the spirit.
More Gregory Maguire Quotations (Based on Topics)
World - Time - Nature - Mind - Soul - Good & Evil - Devils - Thought & Thinking - Sign & Symbol - Fate & Destiny - History - Man - Life - Cows - Family - Hope - Angels - Dreaming - Grief - View All Gregory Maguire Quotations
More Gregory Maguire Quotations (By Book Titles)
- Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
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