“Besides, I could hardly complain to the administration that I was being forced to learn magic.”
“A man fell in love with Jeanne, and she tried to love him. But she complained that he uttered such ordinary words, that he could never say the magic phrase which would open her being.”
“You could at least complain,” I say. “I adore complaining. It calms the nerves.”
“To complain that I could only be married once was like complaining that I had only been born once.”
“Fiction writing is a kind of magic. If I communicate the magic spell . . . it loses its force for me.”
“Hours trickle by, and I wilt. The magic isn't here for me tonight. I can't get away from the heavy feeling of being me. I want to blend in, to be someone besides myself, someone who is part of something secret and subversive and exciting.”