Quotes from Michael Moorcock

women of exotic appearance.

Because, madam, it is a plain and it is covered in blood. That brown dust is dried blood—blood spilled an age since in some forgotten battle between Law and Chaos, I understand.

Oh, be silent!" Elric cried. "For a god, you talk too much. Take the swords—and give me back my wife!

Serwde only half understood what Corum was saying, but he listened politely until Corum stopped

Who told you that the world was just?' Elric

But I tell you this, Sepiriz—given the opportunity I shall make that god rue his homecoming, for he has done the one thing that can move me to real anger. And the anger of Elric of Melniboné and his sword Stormbringer can destroy the world!" Sepiriz

He knew that for all his admission of Chaos he would be better able to do what he wished in a world ordered by some degree of Law. The

There is none but me, Myshella the Dark Lady – and I am the mistress.

By means of our myths and legends we maintain a sense of what we are within and who we are. Without them we should undoubtedly go mad.

Relaxed, I lit a spliff.

I don't doubt they'd welcome us in Bakshaan with the same warmth we received in Nadsokor. They'll not have forgotten the destruction we wrought there—and the wealth we acquired from their merchants.

Corum stared at the mired hand, now once again his. "It is nothing," he murmured. "I have killed my friend.

they are a most depressed and depressing group, for they are all, you see, exiles or refugees or travelers between the worlds who lost their way and never found it again. No-one lives in Ameeron by choice." "A veritable City of the Damned." "As the poet might remark, aye." Rackhir offered Elric a sardonic wink. "But I sometimes think all cities are that.

The miserable frequently believe that possession of power for its own sake is what has made others more content. They grab such power in many different ways and remain baffled as to why they are just as miserable as they were to begin with.

THE LESS OF a man I became, and the more of an automaton, so the dreams and half-memories ceased to plague me. It was as if they had deliberately driven me into this mindless rôle; so long as I continued to be a creature without remorse or conscience they would reward me with their absence. If I again showed signs of ordinary Humanity, then they would punish me with their presence.

Elric of Melniboné, madam, called Elric Womanslayer in the West, and this is Moonglum of Elwher; he has no conscience.

Oh, my beauty! Oh, my love. Soon your loins shall live--and throb to my pounding dork! Ah! Ah!

Be warned, gentlemen. I possess a revolver and am an expert shot! Holmes accepted this news gravely and informed the man that while he understood that an exchange of pistol fire to be something in the nature of an introductory courtesy in Texas, in England it was still considered impolitic to support one's cause by letting off guns in the house. This I found a little hypocritical from one given to target practice in the parlor!

And upon those three lies was Elric's destiny to be built, for it is only about things which concern us most profoundly that we lie clearly and with profound conviction.

As they rode for Bakshaan, not knowing what was troubling the people of that city, Elric tapped Stormbringer which hung, once more, at his side. His eyes were hard and moody, turned inwards on his own feelings. "Be wary of this devil-blade, Moonglum. It kills the foe—but savours the blood of friends and kinfolk most.

We need to enter the castle, first," he said instead. As if the gates had heard him, the metal bars flared to a pale green and then their glow faded back to red and finally dulled into non-existence. The entrance was unbarred and their way apparently clear. "I like not that," growled Moonglum. "Too easy. A trap awaits us—are we to spring it at the pleasure of whoever dwells within the castle confines?

The forest, he thought, would endure for ever. Something so beautiful could not die.

It was in that year when the fashion in cruelty demanded not only the crucifixion of peasant children, but a similar fate for their household animals, that I first met Lucifer and was transported into Hell; for the Prince of Darkness wished to strike a bargain with me.

I could write 15,000 words a day and gave myself three days a volume.