The Visible World Was Only An Imperfect

There's No "magic Secret"; Writing Is Like Everything Else; Ten Percent Inspiration Or Talent, And Ninety Percent Hard Work. Persistence; Keeping At It Till You Get There. As Agnes De Mille Said, It Means Working Every Day—bored, Tired, Weary, Or With A Fever Of A Hundred And Two.

From These Christians Who Came To [avalon] To Escape The Bigotry Of Their Own Kind I Learned Something, At Last, Of The Nazarene, The Carpenter's Son Who Had Attained Godhead In His Own Life And Preached A Rule Of Tolerance; And So I Came To See That My Quarrel Was Never With The Christ, But With His Foolish And Narrow Priests Who Mistook Their Own Narrowness For His.

Love Is The Only Prayer I Know.

Light Flared Through Every Limb, A Force Far Too Great To Be Contained In Any Human Frame; But For That Moment She Was The Great Mother, Giving Birth To The World.

I Should Know, For I Am Morgaine Le Fay, Priestess Of The Isle Of Avalon, Where The Ancient Religion Of The Mother Goddess Is Born.