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Quote by Tanith Lee

“It must be a spell, or perhaps a blow on the head-that thing when you forget everything-amsneezia, is it?” “Amnesia,” said the horse. “Then you can talk!” cried the Prince delightedly. “Of course I can’t,” said the horse. “Whoever heard of a horse talking?” “Oh,” said the Prince. They hurried on, and the track was much steeper now, and the mountains loomed close. Presently, the Prince thought of something. “But you just did.” “No,” said the horse. “But you did talk-there, you did it again.” “You imagined it,” said the horse.”

Quote by Tanith Lee

Work

Dark Castle, White Horse

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Author

Tanith Lee
Tanith Lee

Tanith Lee (September 19, 1947 – May 24, 2015) was a British writer of fantasy, science fiction, and horror. Known for her vivid imagination, lyrical prose, and subversive reinterpretations of traditional genres, she often blended mythology, Gothic elements, and feminist perspectives. Her notable works include the 'Flat Earth' series and 'The Silver Metal Lover'. She won multiple awards, including the World Fantasy Award and British Fantasy Award. Over her career, she authored more than 90 novels and 300 short stories, leaving a lasting impact on speculative fiction. more

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“Draw a Bezzlegram,” said the horse. “You spoke!” “I didn’t,” said the horse. “What’s a Bezzlegram?” “It’s a circle with a seven-pointed star in it and drawings of safe signs in between the points. It keeps Bezzles out.” “What are Bezzles? And I can’t! And does it matter?” “Yes,” said the horse. “The things you see all around you are Bezzles. They’re demons of the Waste and they’ll attack any minute unless you’re inside a Bezzlegram.”

“What are we going to do?” despaired the Prince. “When we get to the next rise,” said the horse, “there’ll be a ditch. Roll off it and hide.” “How do you know there’ll be a ditch?” “How do you know there won’t be?” asked the horse. “I shall ride on, and the wood will chase me, not having noticed the two of you are gone.” “Of course it’ll notice. And besides, I need you help, and you may not come back.”

“Annis's ennui lightened, too, when she saw the matched pair of white horses in the traces of the Rosefield carriage. She thought they must be Andalusians, like the mare she had met in Regent's Park, though these were bigger, with heavier hindquarters, larger heads, and a more pronounced curve to the nose. They would have been bred to harness, she supposed. Their manes and tails were braided with gold ribbon, and the metal fittings on their tack sparkled. When they set out, she was delighted to feel their power and to note the steadiness of their gait.”