O.R. Melling Quotes

Those who rise first are morally superior. It's a universal law.

You can't really know what you are made of until you are tested.

For every pleasure, there must be a sacrifice.

Things get really dangerous when we start saying I'm the good one and you're the bad one. What happens in our world is that everyone is the good fighting the good because one side thinks they're the good and the other side's sure they're the good and they're both calling the other the evil. As far as I'm concerned, the only evil is what happens when that happens.

It's a booley village," Ian told her. "The islanders used to take their animals into the hills for the summ. They'd camp out in these stone huts: men, women, and children. Everyone stayed up all night, sang, told stories, watched the stars. It must have been great craic."
"How do you know this stuff?" she asked, admiringly.
"I' a bloody genius." When she threw him a look, he grinned. " I also read it in the guidebook.

You shouldn't read so much, you'll get a brain tumor.

Where there is no respect for life, there you will find evil.

Whatever will happen will happen. You either face it as a coward or you face it as a hero.

To run with the wolf was to run in the shadows, the dark ray of life, survival and instinct. A fierceness that was both proud and lonely, a tearing, a howling, a hunger and thirst. Blessed are they who hunger and thirst. A strength that would die fighting, kicking, screaming, that wouldn't stop until the last breath had been wrung from its body. The will to take one's place in the world. To say 'I am here.' To say 'I am.

He let out a lough laugh. "I hope you also respect my mind."
They laughed together, the it happened naturally. Both drew near to kiss.
"Better make that two," said Dara.
"Two kisses?"
"Two people who fancy you. And, yes, the other as well.

Life is a journey through a foreign land.

If you're betwixt and between, trust the one with red hair.

I was fortunate in that I attended university in Canada in the early 1970s when you could take a true liberal arts degree with no programmes, majors or minors.

By that which you kill are you bound.

Who are you?" Rosemary said in amazement. She had never seen men like these before. Cloaks of green and brown fell from their broad shoulders and every hand gripped a round shield an evil-looking spear. Beneath the thick yellow hair, eyes glinted hard and wild.
One of the men rode near and peered down at Rosemary. Unlike the rest, he was clean-shaven and pleasant-looking, and she was surprised to see that he was no older than herself. Nonetheless his blond-red hair was bound with golden circlet and he was obviously the leader. He suddenly smiled at her and his eyes were bright with humour and curiosity.
"It is hardly your place to question us, girl."
He reached out and touched her hair.
"Hair like the night...and such strange clothing. But you are fair-faced. Whose slave might you be?

As if she read Dana's thoughts, the wolf spoke softly.
"Stand beside the earliest crossroads and ask of the old paths, where is the way to good?"
"I'm afraid," Dana's voice shook. "Not for me but for you. I don't want you to die.

your so north american, with your either/or's.

If I have not love, I am Nothing.

When you write for children and young adults, you have much more affect and influence on them than when you write for adults. The books that get us through our childhood stay with us for life.

I'm omnivorous in my tastes, fiction and non-fiction, always several books on the go, though I'll read a novel in a day or two.

All my books reflect travel adventures of some kind, and all have a soul: a spiritual or mystical underpinning.

Hope burns eternal in the human heart.

Have you forgotten how to sing?" murmured the dark-eyed young man who leaned over the rails of the Ha'penny Bridge. His sloe-black eyes went darker still as he brooded on the ancient river.
"When we called you Rurthach you purled like a young stream. What have they done to you?

Where do we record the passing of wildlife? Who mourns the silent deaths of the small?

Adults must be torn apart because life defeats them. They lose hope, they grow weak. They squander their inheritance. Children need not be torn, for they hold to their birthright. Their hearts are as wild as the hearts of birds. They have the courage of the wolf.

We considered behaving, but it's against our nature.

Are you never afraid?" Jimmy asked, not bothering to hide his admiration.
"What is there to fear? Pain? I have suffered a thousand wounds. There is no part of my body that has not been gashed, gored, or broken. Death? I laugh at death. It can only come to me and then it is over. Shame or dishonour? I cannot know these as long as I don't fear pain or death.