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I've Always Been Fascinated By The Grassroots Folktale Level Of A Culture, And As A Storyteller, I Have To Follow What Seems To Be Leading Me On.
-Robin McKinley
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I've Always Been Fascinated

Robin McKinley
...
I've Always Been Fascinated By The Grassroots Folktale Level Of A Culture, And As A Storyteller, I Have To Follow What Seems To Be Leading Me On.

Understanding the Quote: "i've always been fascinated by the grassroots folktale level of a culture,..."

This quote by Robin McKinley reflects deeply on the theme of culture. It connects to the universal human journey of purpose, motivation, and reflection. Often categorized under Culture, Levels, Grassroots, the quote offers insight, emotional clarity, and intellectual inspiration to readers worldwide.

Whether you’re a student exploring new ideas, a leader trying to motivate your team, or someone seeking direction in life — this quote provides value. It resonates because it’s more than words — it’s a bridge between experience and wisdom. It shows how Robin McKinley interprets life's core challenges and triumphs.

Lessons From the Quote

This quote teaches resilience and focus. It reminds readers that no matter where they stand in life, reflection and self-awareness lead to growth. Each word has meaning, and when studied, it becomes clear how impactful thoughtful language can be.

About Robin McKinley

Robin McKinley is celebrated for insightful thoughts on culture and levels. Their legacy lives on through writings that guide, comfort, and inspire. Discover more on their profile page.

Actionable Takeaways

  • Reflect on how this quote applies to your current life path.
  • Share the message with someone who needs inspiration.
  • Write your thoughts on this quote in a journal or blog post.
  • Use it as a daily affirmation or reminder.

Closing Thoughts

Quotes like this endure because they capture universal truths. They comfort us in solitude and empower us in groups. Carry this quote forward — live by its wisdom, share its message, and keep its essence alive.

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Topic
Culture
Levels
Grassroots
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If You Try To Breathe Water, You Will Not Turn Into A Fish, You Will Drown; But Water Is Still Good To Drink.
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The Insides Of Our Own Minds Are The Scariest Things There Are.
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Those Single-track Military Minds Never Think To Ask Their Cleaning Staff For Help In Giant Lethal Marauding Creature Matters.
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People Forgot; It Was In The Nature Of People To Forget, To Blur Boundaries, To Retell Stories To Come Out The Way They Wanted Them To Come Out, To Remember Things As How They Ought To Be Instead Of How They Were.
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Beauty: "you Called Me Beautiful Last Night." Beast: "you Do Not Believe Me Then?" Beauty: "well - No. Any Number Of Mirrors Have Told Me Otherwise." Beast: "you Will Find No Mirrors Here, For I Cannot Bear Them: Nor Any Quiet Water In Ponds. And Since I Am The Only One Who Sees You, Why Are You Not Then Beautiful?
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I Said: "he Cannot Be So Bad If He Loves Roses So Much." "but He Is A Beast," Said Father Helplessly. I Saw That He Was Weakening, And Wishing Only To Comfort Him I Said, "cannot A Beast Be Tamed?"
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I Advise Those Who Want To Become Writers To Study Veterinary Medicine, Which Is Easier. You Don't Want To Be A Writer Unless You Have No Choice - And If You Have No Choice, Good Luck To You.
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...there Remained A Strange Formality Between Them, And Her Pleasure In His Presence Felt Too Much Like Missing Him Had Felt During The Last Week.
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The Weak Grey Light That Serves As Harbinger Of Red And Golden Dawn Faintly Lit My Window. I Fumbled For A Candle, Found And Lit It, And By Its Little Light Saw That The Rose Floating In The Bowl Was Dying. It Had Already Lost Most Of Its Petals, Which Floated On The Water Like Tiny, Un-seaworthy Boats, Deserted For Safer Craft. "dear God," I Said. "i Must Go Back At Once.
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Vampire. Dangerous. Unknowable. Seriously Creepy. This One's Name Was Constantine. We'd Met Before.
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It Goes Something Like 'there Are A Lot Of Ways To Be Yourself.
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When They Finished Laughing They Were On Their Way To Being Not Just Friends, But The Dearest Of Friends, The Sort Of Friends Whose Lives Are Shaped By The Friendship.
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We Kings Do Develop A Certain Ability To Recognize Objects Under Our Noses.
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I Found That The Only Way I Could Control This Sorrow Was Not To Think Of [it] At All, Which Was Almost As Painful As The Loss Itself.
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What Was She To Say? "the Prodigal Has Returned? The Mutineer Wishes To Be Reinstated? The Subordinate, Having Gone To A Great Deal Of Trouble To Prove Her Commander Wrong, Has Come Back And Promises To Be A Good Little Subordinate Hereafter, Or At Least Until Next Time?
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But The Uproar This Caused Was Nothing Compared With The Uproar When Katronia Noticed [rosie] Had Also Cut Her Eyelashes. Various Negotiations (including, Finally, Such Desperate Measures As "supposing You Ever Want To Eat Again") Eventually Produced The Grudging Promise That, In Return For Katronia Keeping Her Hair Cut Short, She Would Leave Her Eyelashes Alone.
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One Of The Biggest, And Possibly The Biggest, Obstacle To Becoming A Writer... Is Learning To Live With The Fact That The Wonderful Story In Your Head Is Infinitely Better, Truer, More Moving, More Fascinating, More Perceptive, Than Anything You're Going To Manage To Get Down On Paper.
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Yes, I Am Letting My Own Experience Color My Answer, Which Is What Experience Is For.
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There Had Been Certain Romantic Interludes In The Past That Had Included Galloping Across The Desert At Night; But He Had Never Abducted Any Woman Whose Enthusiastic Support For Such A Plan Had Not Been Secured Well In Advance.
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I Don't Believe In Fate," She Said At Last. "but I Do Believe In...loopholes. I Think A Lot Of What Keeps The World Going Is The Result Of Accidents — Happy Or Otherwise — And Taking Advantage Of These.
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The Story Is Always Better Than Your Ability To Write It.
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Everything Was An Adventure, At Night, When You Were Where You Shouldn't Be, Even If It Was Somwhere You Could Go Perfectly Well In Daylight, And It Was Then Only Ordinary.
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My Sheets Had Never Been So Clean As They Had In The Past Few Months. I Hardly Got Them On Again Before Something Else Happened And I Was Feverishly Ripping Them Off And Stuffing Them In The Wash With Double Amounts Of Soap And All The "extra" Buttons Pushed: Extra Wash, Extra Rinse, Extra Water, Extra Spin, Extra Protection Against Things That Go Bump In The Night.
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Betrayal Would Be A Different Sort Of Sick.
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The Story Is Always Better Than Your Ability To Write It. My Belief About This Is That If You Ever Get To The Point That You Think You've Done A Story Justice, You're In The Wrong Business.
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...my Friend, There Are Some Things That I Cannot Tell You. Some I Will Tell You In Time; Some, Others Will Tell You; Some You May Never Know, Or You May Be The First To Find The Answers.
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She Laughed At Him Then, Because He Sounded Like A Small Boy, Not Like A Very Large Grown-up Beast With A Voice So Deep It Made The Hair On The Back Of Your Neck Stir When You Heard It. 'but Vegetables Are Good For You,' She Said, And Added Caressingly, 'they Make You Grow Up Big And Strong.' He Smiled, Showing A Great Many Teeth. 'you See Why I Wish To Eat No More Vegetables.
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...like A Grain Of Sand That Gets Into An Oyster's Shell. What If The Grain Doesn't Want To Become A Pearl? Is It Ever Asked To Climb Out Quietly And Take Up Its Old Position As A Bit Of Ocean Floor?
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I Love You. I Will Love You Till The Stars Crumble, Which Is A Less Idle Threat Than Is Usual To Lovers On Parting.
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My Kind [vampires] Does Not Surprise Easily," He Said. "you Surprised Me, This Morning. I Have Thus Used Up My Full Quota Of Shock And Consternation For Some Interval." I Stared At Him. "you Made A *joke*." "i Have Heard This Kind Of Thing May Happen.
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Oh, Why Does Compassion Weaken Us?' It Doesn't, Really...somewhere Where It All Balances Out-don't The Philosophers Have A Name For It, The Perfect Place, The Place Where The Answers Live?-if We Could Go There, You Could See It Doesn't.it Only Looks, A Little Bit, Like It Does, From Here, Like An Ant At The Foot Of An Oak Tree. He Doesn't Have A Clue That It's A Tree; It's The Beginning Of The Wall Round The World, To Him.
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He Looked At Her Rather As A Man Looks At A Problem That He Would Very Much Prefer To Do Without. She Supposed It Was A Distinction Of A Sort To Be A Harassment To A King.
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Stay A Little While Longer, And Let Everyone Congratulate You - Including The Ones Who Clearly Don't Want To: In Fact, Especially The Ones Who Clearly Don't Want To. You Don't Have To Say Anything But 'thank You
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The Bus Timetable Sites Are All Run By An Inbred Cabal Of Malicious Gnomes. Who Don’t Speak English. And Who Don’t Count Very Well Either. Or Tell Time. And They Certainly Can’t Read Maps.
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She, Too, Spoke Only When The Queen Or King Addressed Her First, But She Looked Searchingly At Every Supplicant, And Her Clear Face Said That She Had Opinions About Everything She Heard, And That It Was Her Proud Duty To Think Out Those Opinions, And Make Them Responsible And Coherent.
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My Capacity For Invention Is Flash Hot Stark, I Thought. Sucker Sunshade. Disembodied Radar-reconnaissance. Not To Mention Bitter Chocolate Death And Killer Zebras. Pity About The Rest Of Me.
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Then Marry Me. For I Love You, And I Do Not Believe There Is Anything So Wrong With You. You Are Fair In My Eyes And You Lie Fair On My Heart.
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And None At All Has Ridden At The King's Side Since Aerinha, Goddess Of Honor And Flame, First Taught Men To Forge Their Blades. You'd Think Aerinha Would Have Had Better Sense.
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What Was New Was The Fact That, Despite My Heart Doing Its Fight-or-flight, Help-we're-prey-and-hey-stupid-that's-a-vampire Number, I Was Glad To See Him. Ridiculous But True. Scary But True.
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It Was Too Important A Matter, This Talking To People, And Listening To Them, To Do It Lightly Or Often.
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Tsornin's Nostrils Showed Red, But His Ears Were As Alert As Ever, And Occasionally He Would Rub His Nose Gently Against The Nape Of Her Neck, Just In Case She Was Momentarily Not Thinking About Him.
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Sungold Blew Impatiently And Began To Dig A Hole With One Foot. She Booted His Elbow With Her Toe And He Stopped, But After A Moment He Lowered His Head And Blew Again, Harder, And She Could Feel Him Shifting His Weight, Considering If She Might Let Him Dig Just A Small Hole.
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I Said With Perfect Honest, "i Have No Intention Of Trying To Take These Suckers Out By Myself, No.
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Say Yes, Babe, Or I'll Spill You Off Over The Wall Next Time - Got It?
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Kids
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Running
Horse
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Evil
Poison
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Mice
Reserved
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Stones
Sunlight
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Sea
Giving
Choices
I Smiled. "i Understand Now. But It Doesn't Matter And You Needn't Apologize. They Have Been Very Kind To Me Too. Even If We Did Differ A Little About Suitable Dresses." He Considered Me A Moment, A Mischievous Light Creeping Into His Eyes, And Said: "was That The Dress - That Night You Wouldn't Come Out Of Your Room?" I Grinned And Nodded, And We Both Laughed.
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Mother
Memories
Boys
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Dark
Roots
Sight
I Almost Wish I'd Had The Forethought To Eat A Tree Myself.
Tree
Wish
Forethought
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She Poured The Water, Arranged Some Bread Near Enough The Embers To Scorch But Not Catch Fire, And Looked Up At Little John. She Was So Accustomed To His Step, To His Bulk, That It Took A Moment To Notice His Face; And When She Did . . . It Was, She Thought, Rather Like The Moment It Took To Realize One Had Cut One's Finger As One Stared Dumbly At The First Drop Of Blood On The Knife-blade. You Know It Is Going To Hurt Quite A Lot In A Minute.
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Cutting
Fire
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Said
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Names
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Blow
Wish
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Writing
World
Want
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Pudding
Looks
Legs
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Military
Government
Littles
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Fate
Littles
Odd
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Sorry
Dark
Space
Oh,' She Said, Too Bone-weary To Pretend: 'i Would Far Rather That I Love You As I Saw Yesterday I Do Than That I Had Gone On Worshiping You As I Did Not Long Since.' And She Turned Away Hastily, And Did Not See That Little John Would Reach Out To Her; And Half-running, Went To Tuck's Cottage, Where She Could Pull On Her Half-dry Clothes, And Become A Proper Outlaw Again. At Least, She Thought, Fighting Back Tears, Like This I Am Cecil, With A Place Among Friends, And A Task To Do. I Am Someone. I Wonder If Perhaps If I Am No Longer Cecil, I Am No One At All.
Running
Love You
Fighting
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Children
Writing
Thinking
The Lone Ranger Of Vampires. Did That Make Me Tonto?
Vampire
Lone Ranger
Rangers
Perhaps It Is A Human Thing, To Look Upon Such Beauty And Fail To Encompass It.
Looks
Failing
Humans
I Like To Assume That Since I Drive A Car And Maintain A Respectable Credit Rating And Rarely Murder Anyone And Bury Them In The Back Garden Unless They Really Deserve It, That The Fact That I Hear Voices Wont Unduly Disturb Anyone.
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Voice
Car
He Will Apologize, Or I'll Give Him A Lesson In Swordplay He Will Not Like At All.
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Lessons
Apologizing
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Hurt
Fists
Tiny
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Wish
Needs
The Magic In That Country Was So Thick And Tenacious That It Settled Over The Land Like Chalk-dust And Over Floors And Shelves Like Slightly Sticky Plaster-dust. (housecleaners In That Country Earned Unusually Good Wages.) If You Lived In That Country, You Had To De-scale Your Kettle Of Its Encrustation Of Magic At Least Once A Week, Because If You Didn't, You Might Find Yourself Pouring Hissing Snakes Or Pond Slime Into Your Teapot Instead Of Water.
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Dust
Land
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Food
Anxiety
Potatoes
So, What Do You Do When You Know You Have Two Days To Live? Eat An Entire Bitter Chocolate Death Cake All By Myself. Reread My Favorite Novel. Buy Eight Dozen Roses From The Best Florist In Town--the Super Expensive Ones, The Ones That Smell Like Roses Rather Than Merely Looking Like Them--and Put Them All Over My Apartment. Take A Good Long Look At Everyone I Love.
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Cake
Two
Can You Trust Me, He Said. Not Will You. Can You. Can I Trust Him? What Do I Have To Lose?
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He Grunted; She Recognized It As Relief That She Wasn't Going To Nag Him Further About Tor The Just, Who Probably Wasn't That Boring If He Could Hold Off The Notherners For Nine Days And Melt A Hole In The Hills.
Relief
Nine
Hills
I Get A Little Cranky With The Whole Business About Kids Not Having Attention Spans. This Reminds Me Of The Usual Business Of Thinking That The Next Generation Is Hopeless. Every Generation Has Said That About Every Younger Generation.
Kids
Thinking
Next
He Didn't Look Insane Or Inhuman. He Did Look Uncooperative.
Insane
Looks
Uncooperative
I've Always Been Fascinated By The Grassroots Folktale Level Of A Culture, And As A Storyteller, I Have To Follow What Seems To Be Leading Me On.
Culture
Levels
Grassroots
But The World Turns, And Even Legends Change; And Somewhere There Is A Border, And Sometime, Perhaps, Someone Will Decide To Cross It, However Well Guarded Its Thorns May Be.
Borders
World
May
As I Have Said, You Have No Reason To Trust Me, And An Excellent Reason Not To.
Trust Me
Reason
Excellent
He Laughed, Tried To Make It Into A Cough, Inhaled At Exactly The Wrong Moment, And Then Really Did Cough.
Moments
Laughed
I Like That: A Little Pressure On The Understood Boundaries Of Yourself. Sounded Like Something Out Of A Self-awareness Class, Probably With Yoga. See What Kind Of A Pretzel You Can Tie Yourself Into And Press On The Understood... I Was Raving, If Only To Myself.
Yoga
Self
Class
She Fell Asleep, Leaning On His Chest, And He Edged Her A Little Off A Particularly Painful Bruise, Leaned His Head Back Against The Tree He Had Propped Them Up Against, And Closed His Own Eyes.
Eye
Tree
Bruises
With The Knowledge Of Her Aloneness Came A Rush Of Self-declaration: “i Will Not Be Nothing.”
Self
Declaration
The Train Is Roaring Toward You And The Villain Is Twirling His Moustache And You're Fussing That He's Tied You To The Tracks With The Wrong Kind Of Rope.
Track
Roaring
Rope
One Keeps Searching For Ease, She Did Not Say, And Not Finding It, Till The Memories Of No-pain Seem Only Like Daydreams.
Pain
Memories
Ease
It Is A Much More Straightforward Thing To Be A Dog, And A Dog's Love, Once Given, Is Not Reconsidered.
Dog
Given
Straightforward
The Great Thing About Fantasy Is That You Can Drag Dreams And Longings And Hopes And Fears And Strivings Out Of Your Subconscious And Call Them 'magic' Or 'dragons' Or 'faeries' And Get To Know Them Better. But Then I Write The Stuff. Obviously I'm Prejudiced.
Dream
Writing
Dragons
At Least I Was True. My Intellectual Abilities Gave Me A Release, And An Excuse. I Shunned Company Because I Preferred Books; And The Dreams I Confided To My Father Were Of Becoming A Scholar In Good Earnest, And Going To University. It Was Unheard-of Several Shocked Governesses Were Only Too Quick To Tell Me, When I Spoke A Little Too Boldly -- But My Father Nodded And Smiled And Said, 'we'll See.' Since I Believed My Father Could Do Anything -- Except Of Course Make Me Pretty -- I Worked And Studied With Passionate Dedication, Lived In Hope, And Avoided Society And Mirrors.
Dream
Father
Book
For Anyone Who Is: Just Keep Writing. Keep Reading. If You Are Meant To Be A Writer, A Storyteller, It'll Work Itself Out. You Just Keep Feeding It Your Energy, And Giving It That Crucial Chance To Work Itself Out. By Reading And Writing.
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