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Quote by Neil Gaiman

“In fact, the only things in the flat Crowley devoted any personal attention to were the houseplants. They were huge, and green, and glorious, with shiny, healthy, lustrous leaves. This was because, once a week, Crowley went around the flat with a green plastic plant mister spraying the leaves, and talking to the plants.... Although talking is perhaps the wrong word for what Crowley did. What he did was put the fear of God into them. More precisely, the fear of Crowley. In addition to which, every couple of months Crowley would pick out a plant that was growing too slowly, or succumbing to leaf-wilt, or browning, or just didn't look quite as good as the others, and he would carry it around to all the plants. "Say goodbye to your friend," he'd say to them. "He just couldn't cut it..." Then he would leave the flat with the offending plant, and return an hour or so later with a large empty flower pot, which he would leave somewhere conspicuously around the flat. The plants were the most luxurious, verdant, and beautiful in London. Also the most terrified.”

Quote by Neil Gaiman

Work

Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch

Written by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, this book combines elements of fantasy, comedy, and satire. It follows the adventures of Aziraphale, an angel, and Crowley, a demon, as they navigate the complexities of their mission to prevent Armageddon. The story is narrated with wit and irony, offering a unique perspective on the nature of good and evil, and the absurdities of prophecy. more

Author

Neil Gaiman
Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman, born on November 10, 1960, is a renowned British author. His works span across various genres including fantasy, horror, and science fiction, with notable titles such as 'American Gods' and 'Good Omens'. Gaiman's writing style is distinctive and has won him a dedicated fan base. more

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“No human being could live in this wasted country, thought Mary, and remain like other people; the very children would be born twisted, like the blackened shrubs of broom, bent by the force of a wind that never ceased, blow as it would from east and west, from north and south. Their minds would be twisted, too, their thoughts evil, dwelling as they must amidst marshland and granite, harsh heather and crumbling stone.”