Sublime

A mage can control only what is near him, what he can name exactly and wholly.

She wants to write because she’s a writer; she wants to say this, and tell people that, and show people something else, things she knows, her ideas, her opinions, her beliefs, important ideas . . . but she doesn’t wait for the wave to come and carry her beyond all the ideas and opinions, to where you cannot use the wrong word.

The limits of that language—shared assumptions of class, culture, education, ethics—both focus and shrink the scope of the fiction.

But I know that to me words are things, almost immaterial but actual and real things, and that I like them.

this old woman, who had weathered so many storms and become as gentle as water,

“It’s always easier not to think for oneself. Find a nice safe hierarchy and settle in. Don’t make changes, don’t risk disapproval, don’t upset your syndics. It’s always easiest to let yourself be governed.”

the incoherence of time.