Mary Stewart Quotes

It is easier to call the storm from the empty sky than to manipulate the heart of a man; and soon, i...

Used every man according to his capacity.

To remember love after long sleep; to turn again to poetry after a year in the market place, or to y...

Every man carries the seed of his own death, and you will not be more than a man. You will have ever...

I assure you, I've come to one of those natural breaks in the book, where one can walk away and let ...

I had always been content to know that there was more in the living world than we could hope to unde...

I doubt if there are many normal women who can resist looking at houses. I believe, in fact, that wh...

Every time your work is read, you die several deaths for every word, and poetry is like being flayed...

Sometimes, when you're deep in the countryside, you meet three girls, walking along the hill tracks ...

Time spent looking back in anger is time wasted

The essence of wisdom is to know when to be doing, and when it's useless even to try

Merlin, do you mind?' It was the King who asked me, a man as old and wise as myself; a man who could...

Silence then, and the scent of apple trees, and the nightmare sense of grief that comes when a man w...

There are few men more superstitious than soldiers. They are, after all, the men who live closest to...

The gods do not visit you to remind you what you know already.

I saw the first light, fore-running the sun, gather in a cup of the eastern cloud, gather and grow a...

At breakfast!' said Louise in an awed voice. 'A man who can read poetry at breakfast would be capabl...

Yes, but the artist?" said Nigel almost fiercely. "He's different, you know he is. He's driven by so...

Well, what was luck for if it was never to be tempted?

...kissing me with a violence that was terrifying and yet, somehow, the summit of all my tenderest d...

By the time that adorable steak and I had become one flesh I could have taken on the whole Valmy cla...

It was nearing 9 O'clock, and the fist duck was drawing down. Behind the trees, the first star prick...