Lloyd Alexander

“Llonio said life was a net for luck; to Hevydd the Smith life was a forge; and to Dwyvach the Weaver-Woman a loom. They spoke truly, for it is all of these. But you,” Taran said, his eyes meeting the potter’s, “you have shown me life is one thing more. It is clay to be shaped, as raw clay on a potter’s wheel.”

Speak up, my boy. If you want truth, you should begin by giving it.

In the race of men is much greed and envy; but of truth, little.

If life is a loom, the pattern you weave is not so easily unraveled.

Craftsmanship isn’t like water in an earthen pot, to be taken out by the dipperful until it’s empty. No, the more drawn out the more remains.

“It is easy to judge evil unmixed,” replied Gwydion. “But, alas, in most of us good and bad are closely woven as the threads on a loom; greater wisdom than mine is needed for the judging.”

“When I was a child I dreamed of adventure, glory, honor in feats of arms. I think now that these things are shadows.”

“If you see them as shadows then you see them for what they are,” Annlaw agreed. “Many have pursued honor, and in the pursuit lost more of it than ever they could gain.”

"Neither refuse to give help when it is needed," Medwyn continued, "nor refuse to accept it when it is offered."

"Why?" Dallben interrupted. "In some cases," he said, "we learn more by looking for the answer to a question and not finding it than we do from learning the answer itself."

Once you have courage to look upon evil, seeing it for what it is and naming it by its true name, it is powerless against you, and you can destroy it.

"I don't even know who I am."

"In a way," answered Gwydion, "that is something we must all discover for ourselves."

The task counts more than the one who does it.