Esther Friesner Quotes

Amanda gave him the freeze, too. The blue demon hesitated, unsure of whether this snub was a rejection of his leadership or his dubious social standing. There were only a few demons in Debrett’s.

Sex is like the pursuit of wild mushrooms: Both are fascinating hobbies, both can prove most addictive, and both for the most part yield tasty results.
And yet, for the novice, there exists always the chance of making that one fatal mistake. Ah, but if one lives, one learns!

Adulthood is not just gauged by years survived. An adult is able to act independently, to resist manipulation, to make his own decisions. And to take the consequences.

Satanism? In Whitman?
"Mmm-hmm." She threaded her arm through his. "You can find Satanism in everything if you've got the right sort of mind and you look hard enough."

Scratch a minstrel, find a pimp!

Hell is full of incompetent rebels.

Growing up’s not something that just happens south of your belt buckle. It’s opening your eyes and taking on the nightmares yourself, without calling for Mommy or Daddy or even God. It’s facing down evil, even when you know it might be the last thing you ever do.

If we could all pick our fathers there might be ten men on earth who would have families.

Like many a freshman with dangerous leanings toward the Humanities, Noel circled the topic of choosing a major cautiously, occasionally poking it with a stick to see which way it lunged and which way he should jump to avoid it.

We are all doomed, condemned to have the flesh seared from our bones, our blood gouting from our headless necks as the dragon rends limb from limb!"
"Wait a minute," the first guard said. "How can the dragon rend us limb from limb, blood gouting and all, if it's already seared the flesh from our bones?"
Another Gorgorian guard gave him a smart thwack in the head and said, "It's a holy vision, you clod. Things don't need to make sense when they're holy visions.

When the majority is crazy, the sane ones are kept in asylums. She knew that well; she’d majored in World History.

“What is it about L.A.?”
“The Great Cosmic Belly Button that attracteth the spiritual lint of the universe,” Faith replied.

The winter of ignorance could come, the cold stoked by a thousand bonfires. There would always be loveless souls ready to kindle such blazes with their neighbors’ books, or dreams, or children.

That didn’t really fit the facts or make very much sense, but as a theory it had a certain perverse appeal.

Children, the gods call us when they choose, but not even the priests are eager to answer.