“
She has given you something of value: the truth in her heart.
— Lloyd Alexander
writer, novelist, children's writer
1924 – 2007
She has given you something of value: the truth in her heart.
Perhaps one reason we are fascinated by cats is because such a small animal can contain so much independence, dignity, and freedom of spirit. Unlike the dog, the cat's personality is never bet on a human's. He demands acceptance on his own terms.
We learn more by looking for the answer to a question and not finding it than we do from learning the answer itself.
Perhaps one reason we are fascinated by cats is because such a small animal can contain so much independence, dignity, and freedom of spirit. Unlike the dog, the cat's personality is never bet on a human's. He demands acceptance on his own terms.
Laws assure animals of protection – formally, officially, set down in black and white. But in the long run, the best protection is the human heart.
The muse in charge of fantasy wears good, sensible shoes.
In the algebra of fantasy, A times B doesn't have to equal B times A. But, once established, the equation must hold throughout the story.
Fantasy, by its power to move us so deeply, to dramatize, even melo-dramatize, morality, can be one of the most effective means of establishing a capacity for adult values.
At heart, the issues raised in a work of fantasy are those we face in real life. In whatever guise—our own daily nightmares of war, intolerance, inhumanity; or the struggles of an Assistant Pig-Keeper against the Lord of Death—the problems are agonizingly familiar. And an openness to compassion, love and mercy, is as essential to us here and now as it is to any inhabitant of an imaginary kingdom.
Our only hope for tomorrow is peace now.
The raw materials of story are the raw materials of all human cultures. Story deals with the same questions as theology, philosophy, psychology. It is concerned with polarities: love and hate, birth and death, joy and sorrow, loss and recovery.
Story, finally, is humanity's autobiography.
Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It's a way of understanding it.
Keep reading. It's one of the most marvelous adventures that anyone can have.
“But I’m Pharaoh,” Neter-Khet said. “I’m supposed to give orders.”“In a way they were,” Jason said, “and in a way they weren’t. A cat can belong to you, but you can’t own him. There’s a difference.”
“Oh yes,” said the Emperor. “That’s what you have to do when you approach the Celestial Presence—that’s me.”“Well, I’m afraid that no cat in the world ever bowed to an emperor,” said Jason. “They just won’t do it, Ichigo, and you’re wasting your time if you try to force them. A cat does what he wants, when he wants, emperor or not.”
“That’s another thing about emperors—and regents,” Gareth said. “They aren’t very fond of changes, even if the changes are for the better.”
“Didn’t you ever see a cat before?”“Of course I did,” said the boy. “Hundreds of them. But just because you’ve seen something, it doesn’t mean you stop looking. There’s always something you didn’t see before.”
He’s as impartial as a herring’s backbone, for he favors neither side and is attached to both!
“What civilization would be complete without a cat?” the Professor went on. “What greater blessing to the home than the kindly yet watchful eye of this tiger of the fireside?”
Most of us are called on to perform tasks far beyond what we believe we can do. Our capabilities seldom match our aspirations, and we are often woefully unprepared. To this extent, we are all Assistant Pig-Keepers at heart.
Well, that is one of the three foundations of learning: see much, study much, suffer much.
Why?" Dallben interrupted. "In some cases," he said, "we learn more by looking for the answer to a question and not finding it than we do from learning the answer itself.
It is not the trappings that make the prince, nor, indeed, the sword that makes the warrior.
The task counts more than the one who does it.
I don't even know who I am.""In a way," answered Gwydion, "that is something we must all discover for ourselves.
I can't make sense out of that girl," he said to the bard. "Can you?" "Never mind," Fflewddur said. "We aren't really expected to.
Neither refuse to give help when it is needed," Medwyn continued, "nor refuse to accept it when it is offered.
This is a place of peace," Medwyn said, "and therefore not suitable for men, at least, not yet.
Once you have courage to look upon evil, seeing it for what it is and naming it by its true name, it is powerless against you, and you can destroy it.
Even in a fantasy realm, growing up is accomplished not without cost.
We hold each other’s lives in our open hands, not in clenched fists.
I have marched in many a battle host," Adaon answered quietly, "but I have also planted seeds and reaped the harvest with my own hands. And I have learned there is greater honor in a field well plowed than in a field steeped in blood.
“There is much to be known,” said Adaon, “and above all much to be loved, be it the turn of the seasons or the shape of a river pebble. Indeed, the more we find to love, the more we add to the measure of our hearts.”
There is truth in all things, if you understand them well.
Is there not glory enough in living the days given to us? You should know there is adventure in simply being among those we love and the things we love, and beauty, too.
We’re neither good nor evil. We’re simply interested in things as they are.
“It is easy to judge evil unmixed,” replied Gwydion. “But, alas, in most of us good and bad are closely woven as the threads on a loom; greater wisdom than mine is needed for the judging.”
Child, child, do you not see? For each of us comes a time when we must be more than what we are.
“So you say, so you say,” murmured Fflewddur, hurrying after him. “Look closer into your heart. You may find your opinion to be somewhat different.”
The destinies of men are woven one with the other, and you can turn aside from them no more than you can turn aside from your own.
Speak up, my boy. If you want truth, you should begin by giving it.
“Believe what you like. You'll be surprised how comforting it is.”“I ask no comfort,” Taran replied, “but the truth, be it harsh or happy.”
In the race of men is much greed and envy; but of truth, little.
Indeed, the more we find to love, the more we add to the measure of our hearts.
If I do find pride, I'll not find it in what I was or what I am, but what I may become. Not in my birth, but in myself.
If I fret over tomorrow, I'll have little joy today.
If life is a loom, the pattern you weave is not so easily unraveled.
Craftsmanship isn’t like water in an earthen pot, to be taken out by the dipperful until it’s empty. No, the more drawn out the more remains.
“Count yourself lucky,” the potter went on, “that you have understood this now and not spent your years in vain hope. This much have you learned, and no learning is wasted.”
“When I was a child I dreamed of adventure, glory, honor in feats of arms. I think now that these things are shadows.”“If you see them as shadows then you see them for what they are,” Annlaw agreed. “Many have pursued honor, and in the pursuit lost more of it than ever they could gain.”
“Llonio said life was a net for luck; to Hevydd the Smith life was a forge; and to Dwyvach the Weaver-Woman a loom. They spoke truly, for it is all of these. But you,” Taran said, his eyes meeting the potter’s, “you have shown me life is one thing more. It is clay to be shaped, as raw clay on a potter’s wheel.”
A crown is more discomfort than adornment. If you have learned that, you have already learned much.
This much have I learned: A man’s life weighs more than glory, and a price paid in blood is a heavy reckoning.
Take this as a gift from a crone to a maiden, and know there is not so much difference between the two. For even a tottering granddam keeps a portion of girlish heart, and the youngest maiden a thread of old woman’s wisdom.
“You are the oaken staff I lean on,” Taran said. “More than that.” He laughed. “You are the whole sturdy tree, and a true warrior.”Coll, instead of beaming, looked wryly at him. “Do you mean to honor me?” he asked. “Then say, rather, I am a true grower of turnips, and a gatherer of apples. No warrior whatever, save that I am needed thus for a while. My garden longs for me as much as I long for it.”
A crown is a pitiless master, harsher than the staff of a pig-keeper; while a staff bears up, a crown weighs down, beyond the strength of any man to wear it lightly.
Is there worse evil than that which goes in the mask of good?
Are these signs of hope, or do we deceive ourselves by wishing them to be?
Draw Dyrnwyn, only thou of noble worth, to rule with justice, to strike down evil. Who wields it in good cause shall slay even the Lord of Death.
Evil cannot be conquered by wishing.
And so they lived many happy years, and the promised tasks were accomplished. Yet long afterward, when all had passed away into distant memory, there were many who wondered whether King Taran, Queen Eilonwy, and their companions had indeed walked the earth, or whether they had been no more than dreams in a tale set down to beguile children. And, in time, only the bards knew the truth of it.
