“Why, what is it, how can flesh and blood come up with such stuff, how can flesh feel it. My lord life is strange. How is that Meaning comes to be? How? How does life cast it up, shape it,… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
“The Crows of the region could have told them that there are almost always more Crows around them than they can see; but like… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
Learning to decipher words had only added to the pleasures of holding spines and turning pages, measuring the journey to the end with a… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
It occurred to him that seeing a woman's child is like seeing a woman naked, in the way it changes how her face looks… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
“He learned, though slowly, what all great harrowed lovers learn: that love is what most surely compels love -- is perhaps, except for brute… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
“...only think a moment that we are here now, and that that was then, and it has come to this, and how odd, odd,… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
Love is a myth.' 'Love is a myth,' Grandfather Trout said. 'Like summer.' 'What?' 'In winter,'Grandfather Trout said, 'summer is a myth. A report,… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
“The Tale was behind them. And it was to there they journeyed. One step would take them there; they were there already” — john crowley Copy Share Image
“They called him John Storm: John after his grandfather, but Storm after his father and his mother.” — John Crowley Copy Share Image
“Handsome guy, Victor, in a brutal, black-Irish way. Like most New York bartenders, he was really an actor, or was it the reverse? ("Novelty")” — John Crowley Copy Share Image
“There was a game she had played with Sophie in the long hallways of Edgewood, where she and Sophie would stand as far apart… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
“... their lives were full of quiet drama, full of vague yet thrilling signs that life was not as the common run supposed it… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
It was anyway all a long time ago; the world, we know now, is as it is and not different; if there was ever… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
“I could be listening to Painted Red weave the stories of the saints in her rich roomy voice, and beginning to see how all… — John Crowley Copy Share Image
“What you learn as you get older is that the world is old, and has been old for a long time.” — John Crowley Copy Share Image
