Quotes from Michael Moorcock

Three swift swords for the sisters three; The first shall be of ivory; The second sword's forged of rarest gold; The third shall be cut from a granite fold. The first sword's name is Just Old Man; And the second is called The Urgent Brand; While the third thirsty sword of that glamour'd three Is the hungry blade named Liberty. --Ernest Wheldrake, Border Ballads

By Elric's Sword!" Jhary groaned. "Those are the Chariots of Chaos. I should have guessed!

You spend your lives chasing that which is within you and that which you can find in any other human being - but you will not look for it there - you must follow more glamorous paths - to waste your time in order to discover that you have wasted your time.

We are friends to Death, but not His servants.

Then Elric rushed towards the thing, shouting the names which now had no meaning to his surface consciousness. "Balaan—Marthim! Aesma! Alastor! Saebos! Verdelet! Nizilfkm! Haborym! Haborym of the Fires Which Destroy!

The nearest we ever come to knowing truth is when we are witness to a paradox.

The hunting dogs of the Dharzi!" gasped Shaarilla. "I thought that they, like their masters, were long extinct!

As disorienting as The Final Programme was, however, its relentless novelty was undercut by a peculiar familiarity: Cornelius's exploits mirrored those of Elric of Melniboné almost exactly, blow for blow. Even a minor character like the Melnibonéan servant Tanglebones could turn up anagrammatized as the Cornelius family's retainer John Gnatbeelson.

There are many legends which say the past was perfect or that the future will be perfect. I have seen many pasts and many futures. None of them were perfect, my friend.

I sought my wings," she said. "Your wings—you mean the Book might give you a spell so that you could grow wings!" Elric smiled ironically. "And that is why you seek the vessel of the world's mightiest wisdom!" "If you were thought deformed in your own land—it would seem important enough to you," she shouted defiantly.

There is no Truth but that of Eternal struggle.

A deep unholy chuckle arose from the shattered pit. It was the mocking laughter of the earth elemental King Grome, taking his rightful subjects back into his keeping. Whining, the devil-dogs slunk towards the edge of the pit, sniffing around it. Then, with one accord, the black pack hurled itself down into the chasm, following its masters to whatever unholy doom awaited it.

Goodbye, Queen. You have lost your champion now." I jumped. I landed in a rosebush that ripped at my skin

He sighed. "Well, our advice was foolish. Now you will die when we die." "I would rather that, I think," I said.

The cave stretches back a long way. All we can do is press on until we find its far wall," Elric said. "Let's hope that its far wall lies not downwards," Moonglum said ironically as he motioned Elric to lead on.

On such ventures as these one is inclined to forget much, as one forgets a dream.

A plague had smitten Eshmir and the locust had stripped her of her beauty. Both plague and locust went by the same name—Terarn Gashtek, Lord of the Mounted Hordes, sunken-faced carrier of destruction; Terarn Gashtek, insane blood-drawer, the shrieking flame bringer. And that was his other name—Flame Bringer.

Soon the silver beach was out of sight and they could see little—the pale blue light above them scarcely penetrating the blackness. It was then that they heard the dry flap of wings over their heads and looked up.

Silently descending were three massive apelike creatures, borne on great leathery wings. Shaarilla recognized them and gasped. "Clakars!

have taken place in my lifetime on this planet of ours, then you will see things quite as clearly in black and white as I do. You can only judge people by their actions, not by their protestations. People act for good or they act for ill and those who do great ill are bad and those who do great good—they are good.

They blinded themselves to the obvious. That is the great triumph of mindless need over intelligence and the human spirit.

The lion does not constantly war with the leopard; the horse does not war with the cow; even among themselves they rarely kill each other, no matter how important the issue to them." "But they would," said Count Roldero, undaunted. "They would if they could anticipate events. They would if they could work out the rate at which the rival animal is consuming food, breeding, expanding its territory.

slimy sorcery aids them!

Though I don't have any serious argument with Neil Gaiman's 'American Gods', I believe that Americans cease to be Europeans - the land makes them become Americans. You see it happening all the time when you travel around America.