Best 17 quotes of Lynn Flewelling on MyQuotes

A crafty nightrunner died of late, And found himself at Bilairy’s Gate. He stood outside and refused to knock Because he meant to pick the lock.

A writer can't just be well-educated or good at research; to build a living, breathing world with interesting characters, you have to write from the gut. I'm not saying you have to live your life like a fantasy adventure. The trick is the ability to synthesize your own everyday experiences into your fiction. Infuse your characters with believable emotions and motivations. Infuse your world with rich sensory detail. For that you have to be in touch with your own existence and your own soul, the dark and the light of it.

Fowl never tastes as savory when you're hungry for venison.

I do a lot with characters' sense of identity. I also like challenging stereotypes, gender roles, things like that. Give me a stereotype or a genre expectation and the first thing I want to do is stand it on its head. In the Nightrunner books I wanted to see if I could create a believable gay hero, one who wasn't someone's sidekick or a victim.

I don't want to spend a fortune on my cremation urn, but I really do want to look nice at my memorial service.

I hate being told what to do! Especially by myself!

It was Alec who brought their lips together. Seregil's first reaction was disbelief. But Alec was insistent, clumsy but determined. It lasted an instant, an eternity, that one awkward kiss, and it spoke silent volumes of bewildered honesty. The moment that followed was too fragile for words.

Jane Kindred’s THE HOUSE OF ARKHANGEL'SK dazzles with its surreal blending of worlds. Lost angel Anazakia, last survivor of her murdered family, finds herself in the hands of demons with suspect motives, betrayed by her own kind, stranded in the world of Man—21st century St. Petersburg, Russia, to be exact. Weaving startling visuals with compelling characters, Kindred reveals parallels in the two worlds that are ‘neither haphazard chance nor calculated design.’ It’s a dizzying, vibrant read.

Thou you thrust your dagger at my eye, I will not flinch.

You always have a choice. Don't ever imagine you don't. Whatever you do, it's a decision and you have to accept responsibility for it. That's when honor becomes more than empty words.

You hardly know me. Why do you want me to come with you?’ ‘Who knows? Perhaps you remind me just a bit of -‘ ‘Someone you used to know?’ Alec interjected skeptically. ‘Someone I used to be.

A Skalan trader tried to tell me the streets of his cities were paved with gold," Alec went on. "I didn't believe him, though. He was the one who tried to buy me from father. I was only eight or nine. I could never figure out what he wanted me for." "Really?" Seregil lifted a noncommittal eyebrow.

At court you must say less than you think and only speak as much of the truth as will do you good.

But is it an honest living?" Alec persisted, clinging to his last shred of resolve. "Most of those who employ me are great lords or nobles." "It sounds like a pretty dangerous line of work," Alec remarked, aware that once again Seregil had side-stepped the question. "That's the spice of it, though," cried Seregil. "And you can end up rich!" "Or on the end of a rope?" Seregil chuckled. "Have it your way.

Come on, Seregil, let's show him how it's done." "I'm busy," replied Seregil, working on a tricky bit of fingering. Moving to stand over him, Micum groweled, "Put away that twopenny toy, you tit-sucking coistril, and show me the length of your blade!" Seregil laid his harp aside with a sigh. "Dear me, that sounds rather like a challenge-" Lunging swiftly past Micum, he sprang to his feet and drew his sword, then swung a flat-bladed attack at Micum's forearm.

It is better to lack the semblance of honor but possess it than to possess the semblance and lack the honor.

These are Plenimaran marines, and there's not much most of them aren't capable of, if you take my meaning." "I don't think I do," said Alec, puzzled by Seregil's tone. "Then try this. They have a saying among them: 'When whores are few, a boy will do.' Got that?" "Oh." Alec felt his face go hot.