Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Zimmer Bradley
Marion Eleanor Zimmer Bradleywas an American author of fantasy, historical fantasy, science fiction, and science fantasy novels, and is best known for the Arthurian fiction novel The Mists of Avalon, and the Darkover series. While some critics have noted a feminist perspective in her writing her popularity has been posthumously marred by multiple accusations against her of child sexual abuse & rape by two of her children, Mark & Moira Greyland, among many others. Zimmer Bradley's first child, David R...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth3 June 1930
CountryUnited States of America
He used to sit on my lap. I was sort of ambivalent about that. He was surviving any way he could.
My husband and I were very in love, and I had no reason to suspect that his interests lay anywhere else.
All the tears women shed, they leave no mark on the world...
But this is my truth; I who am Morgaine tell you these things, Morgaine who was in later days called Morgan le Fay.
Knowledge was like a mouthful of dust.
What wise God would consign a man to Hell for ignorance, instead of teaching him better in the afterlife?
A friend of ours has a hobby doing genealogy, and we found out that we were cousins in the ninth degree, that we had a common ancestor on the Mayflower.
I wasn't a child at 13, were you?
What you see is from outside yourself, and may come, or not, but is beyond your control. But your fear is yours, and yours alone, like your voice, or your fingers, or your memory, and therefore yours to control. If you feel powerless over your fear, you have not yet admitted that it is yours, to do with as you will.
There is no sorrow like the memory of love and the knowledge that it is gone forever
Lancelot: Morgaine, Morgaine - kinswoman, I have never seen you weep. Morgaine: Are you like so many men, afraid of a woman's tears? (...) Lancelot: No (...) it makes them seem so much more real, so much more vulnerable - women who never weep frighten me, because I know they are stronger than I, and I am always a little afraid of what they will do.
No man or woman can live another's fate
And so, perhaps, the truth winds somewhere between the road to Glastonbury, Isle of the Priests, and the road to Avalon, lost forever in the mists of the Summer Sea.
Never name the well from which you will not drink.