Thomas Charles Louis "Tom" Holt (born 13 September 1961) is a British novelist. In addition to fiction published under his own name, he writes fantasy under the pseudonym K. J. Parker.
There's all sorts of things I was always meaning to get around to - learning to play the flute, calculating the square root of nought, going mad - but I just didn't have the time.
Genies rarely have nightmares, for the same reason that elephants don't usually worry about being trampled underfoot. With the possible exception of bottles, there's nothing in the cosmos large enough or malicious enough to frighten them, or stupid enough to try.
There is that within a man that drives him ever onwards, just as the power of the seasons drives the roots of flowers into the hard earth; and so he decided, against his better judgment, to open his eyes and find out what was going to happen to him next.
It was irritating to have one's physical shortcomings pointed out quite so plainly twice in one evening, once by a beautiful girl and once by a dying badger.
There’s nothing bad about reincarnation per se, it’s basically a very good system, cost-effective and ecologically friendly.
Descartes' immortal conclusion cogito ergo sum was recently subjected to destruction testing by a group of graduate researchers at Princeton led by Professors Montjuic and Lauterbrunnen, and now reads, in the Shorter Harvard Orthodoxy: (a) I think, therefore I am; or (b) Perhaps I thought, therefore I was; but (c) These days, I tend to leave that side of things to my wife.
Not only had he lost the only girl he'd ever loved, he'd lost her in duplicate, like some heartbroken but highly efficient civil servant.
After all, what else is scientific enquiry of any sort other than a controlled version of banging one's head against the universe until something gives?
I try and do 2,500 words a day, every day of the year
American-style iced tea is the perfect drink for a hot
Poetry is one of the few nasty childhood habits I've managed to grow out of
Luck, like a Russian car, generally only works if you push it.
Among the gods, there is a dispute as to which one of them originally thought of Christianity; or, as they call it, the Great Leg Pull. Apollo has the best claim, but a sizeable minority support Pluto, ex-God of the Dead, on the grounds that he has a really sick sense of humour. How would it be, suggested the unidentified god, if first we tell them all to love their neighbour, pack in the killing and thieving, and be nice to each other. Then we let them start burning heretics.
New technology is useful, but it's inefficient and ugly; it knows it'll be obsolete by lunchtime tomorrow, so it has no incentive to be anything else
In spite of really intense competition for the job, I'm still my own worst enemy.
Lawyers are predators in grey worsted
Love is an optical illusion that makes you believe the object of your affection is the most beautiful person in the world.