227 Quotes by Juliet Marillier

Each of my novels features a protagonist undertaking a difficult personal journey. On the way, each of these characters – mostly female – discovers something about herself and at the same time makes an impact on other people’s lives.

The god honors the faithful. And who is more true than a man who keeps his oath, though it breaks his heart?

Faolan launched himself across the bridge, uttering a prayer to any deity that might be prepared to listen. “Let me reach her in time, let her keep hold, let this wretched apology for a bridge not crumble under my feet...

A story could lead you into a different world for a while. It might be a world where a foolish youngest son could turn into a brave and clever hero, or a beaten young woman could end up as a wise leader of folk. And when the story was ended and that world was gone, you still had the idea of it inside you. Like a flame that didn’t go out even when the bad things rattled and swirled and screamed, and worse, oh, much worse, when they whispered and goaded and tormented.

Because, when I was away, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Part of me said, yes, it was the right thing to do, for your sake; part of me recognized the kind of man I am, the kind of work I do, the utter impossibility of it. But the other part of me... I felt your absence like a wound.

I’ve loved fairytales, folklore and mythology since I was a small child, and I think it was inevitable that they would influence my style and my development of stories.

What did she give you?” He turned and smiled at me, the curve of his wide mouth transforming his face completely. “Faith in myself,” he said simply. “To do what’s right, and not falter, no matter how hard it gets.

I did not want to cry any more. Instead I felt hollow, empty, as if all the meaning had been sucked out of me and I was drifting, light as a skeleton leaf, at the mercy of the four winds. I was drained of tears.

There is the darkness of a moonless night out of doors, and there is the darkness of a house with its shutters closed and the lamps quenched. There is the darkness of sleep, relieved by the bright images of dreams. But no darkness is as complete, as blanketing, as terrifying as the utter darkness of underground.