With a crash, the cover fell to the floor, sending the bright gems skipping and dancing over the paving stones. Beneath Elric’s twitching hands lay n… - Michael Moorcock

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With a crash, the cover fell to the floor, sending the bright gems skipping and dancing over the paving stones.
Beneath Elric’s twitching hands lay nothing but a pile of yellowish dust.
“No!” His scream was anguished, unbelieving. “No!” Tears flowed down his contorted face as he ran his hands through the fine dust. With a groan which racked his whole being, he fell forward, his face hitting the disintegrated parchment. Time had destroyed the Book—untouched, possibly forgotten, for three hundred centuries. Even the wise and powerful gods who had created it had perished—and now its knowledge followed them into oblivion.

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About Michael Moorcock

Michael Moorcock (born 18 December 1939) is a prolific British writer and editor, long known for his SF and fantasy works and now also for literary novels.

Also Known As

Birth Name: Michael John Moorcock
Alternative Names: Bill Barclay William Ewert Barclay Edward P. Bradbury James Colvin Warwick Colvin, Jr. Philip James Hank Janson Desmond Reid Michael Barrington
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Additional quotes by Michael Moorcock

Chaos delights in creation but swiftly becomes bored with what it creates for it seeks not order or justice or constancy but sensation, entertainment. Sometimes it suits it to create something which you and I would value or find pleasure in. But it is an accident.

How will the doctor fare?" Corum called. "The one who took me in."
"He will die unless he is clever and denounces you," Jhary told him.
"But he was a man of great intelligence and humanity. A man of science, too—of learning."
"All the more reason for killing him, if their priesthood has its way. Superstition, not learning, is respected here.

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