Each kiss was nearer to the last one of all.

Philip Pullman

Philip Pullman

Profession: Author
Nationality: British

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Living was hateful, and death was no better, and from end to end of the universe this was the first and last and only truth.

Tell them stories.

People are too complicated to have simple labels.

And barely ten minutes later the soft sound of wingbeats came to their ears, and Balthamos stood up eagerly. The next moment, the two angels were embracing, and Will, gazing into the flames, saw their mutual affection. More than affection: they loved each other with a passion.

Who was that? said Will, trembling, facing the two angels. That was Metatron, said Balthamos.

She longed for cutlasses, pistols, and brandy; she had to make do with coffee, and pencils, and verbs.

We love them; they are brave, proud, beautiful, clever; and they die almost at once. They die so soon that our hearts are continually racked with pain.

You are dead- what am I speaking to?

But we can trust him Roger, I swear," she said with a final effort,"Because he's Will.

Will considered what to do. When you choose one way out of many, all the ways you don't take are snuffed out like candles, as if they'd never existed. At the moment all Will's choices existed at once. But to keep them all in existence meant doing nothing. He had to choose, after all.

The Golden Compass forms the first part of a story in three volumes. The first volume is set in a universe like ours, but different in many ways. The second volume is set in the universe we know. The third volume will move between the universes.

And for most of that time, wisdom has had to work in secret, whispering her words, moving like a spy through the humble places of the world while the courts and palaces are occupied by her enemies.

We feel cold, but we don't mind it, because we will not come to harm. And if we wrapped up against the cold, we wouldn't feel other things, like the bright tingle of the stars, or the music of the aurora, or best of all the silky feeling of moonlight on our skin. It's worth being cold for that.

There is time, and there is what is beyond time. History belongs to time, but truth belongs to what is beyond time.