Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Philip Pullman

Quote by Philip Pullman

“Occasionally they would hear a harsh croak or a splash as some amphibian was disturbed, but the only creature they saw was a toad as big as Will's foot, which could only flop in a pain-filled sideways heave as if it were horribly injured. It lay across the path, trying to move out of the way and looking at them as if it knew they meant to hurt it. 'It would be merciful to kill it,' said Tialys. 'How do you know?' said Lyra. 'It might still like being alive, in spite of everything.' 'If we killed it, we'd be taking it with us,' said Will. 'It wants to stay here. I've killed enough living things. Even a filthy stagnant pool might be better than being dead.' 'But if it's in pain?' said Tialys. 'If it could tell us, we'd know. But since it can't, I'm not going to kill it. That would be considering our feelings rather than the toad's.' They moved on.”

Quote by Philip Pullman

Work

The Amber Spyglass

In this fantasy novel, the young protagonist embarks on a perilous quest in a magical world, facing numerous challenges and encountering fantastical creatures. more

Author

Philip Pullman
Philip Pullman

Philip Pullman is a British film writer known for his adaptations of literary works. Born in October 1946, he is a prolific writer who has adapted several renowned novels into film scripts. more

You May Also Like

“There are some names that one can't even say in a normal voice because they lay open some nerve. I was frightfully in love with a woman once. Her name was Susan and she came from Norwich and she lived with her husband in Ovington Square. I fell out of love with her, and I haven't seen her or heard of her for years, but if I read or hear the words Susan, or Norwich, or Ovington, I go all queer.”

“When I awoke again it was in a homesickness that felt physical, as its symptoms had been physical for seventeenth-century-century mercenary soldiers who'd fallen ill from being so far from home, the first to be diagnosed with the disease of nostalgia. Though never so acute, the longing for something I felt divided from, which was neither a time nor a place was but something formless and unnamed, had been with me since I was a child. Though now I want to say that the division I felt was, in a sense, within me: the division of being both here and not here, but rather there.”