Best 39 quotes of Christy Hall on MyQuotes

A watched pot never boils." It's the same with success. So? Throw that burner on HIGH and just keep on cooking. Dinner will be ready soon.

A writing day is like any other day. Except I live in my pajamas, I forget to eat, and I suddenly look up, wondering when day turned into night.

Days become weeks. Weeks become months. Month become years. And years become silence.

Don't be afraid of what you're creating.

Don't fool yourself. Talking about writing is not the same as actually doing it.

Each night, I close my eyes and dream. In the morning, I open my eyes again, but the dreaming doesn't stop.

Every day in New York City is a test. Work hard and pass this test, you get a chocolate cookie. From a strange man on the subway. A man without pants.

Give all that you can. No more. No less. Every. Single. Day.

Growing up, I used to climb out my window onto the roof and look up at the stars. There, in the quiet, I would write stories inside my head.

I am swimming in a sea of words, attempting to keep my head above water.

I close my eyes and think of what might be possible. And, in my mind, I see fireworks over the Hudson.

I do not recommend writing a screenplay in two weeks.

If I had a nickel for all the times I've been shushed in my life? Bam! Instant millionaire!

If I were to be honest, I'm probably fifty percent bagel. Okay, fine, sixty percent.

If you think someone is humble, never tell them so. You will unknowingly rob them of the very thing you admire.

I have written until I fell asleep with my computer on my lap. That can't be normal.

I know it's difficult in the beginning. But, listen. If you have the impulse to write, do yourself a favor, do the world a favor, and write.

I look out over my life and see a million question marks with only a few definitive exclamation points. I'm living for the next exclamation.

I mean. You put puppies in a store front, I will stop and giddily stare. Every. Single. Time.

I'm turning into an old man. I own four pairs of oxfords, my stories get a little long winded, and my neighbors play their music too loud.

It's hard to be a dreamer sometimes. I'm tired.

It's okay to fail. It does not make you forever a failure. In fact, there are no failures really. Only human beings doing the best they can.

I've never been high. Writing is my drug of choice. You don't ever have to come down from that kind of high, I tell ya. And, best part is, it's free.

I want everyday magic.

I wish my brain had an off switch. Maybe that way I could get some sleep.

Live inside your stories, yes, but do not hide behind them.

Most days, writing simply requires work-ethic, discipline, clarity, focus, time. Other days...it will demand absolutely everything of you.

My stories are my children. Some are sweet infants that I coddle and care for. Others are old enough now, they need to damn well get a job!

Occupation: Writer Occupational Hazard: Carpel tunnel Solution: Wrist guards to bed or my hands do all the sleeping Perspective: I've decided my wrist guards have turned me into a Ninja Superhero that hides in the shadows

Q: Best part about being a musical theatre book writer? A: Explaining what that is.

She meant to write: "Is Christy here yet?" Auto Correct turned it into: "Is crazy here yet?" For once Auto Correct got it right.

Sometimes I dream so vividly, so expectantly, I wonder if I'm crazy...

The defining lines of reality have always been a bit blurred for me.

The night before a deadline, I usually am in desperate need of a back rub. And new wrists. And candy. And little mice to secretly finish the job while I am sleeping.

Walking the Camino de Santiago taught me the wonders of physical challenge, the wonders of spiritual freedom, and the wonders of baby powder.

When a solid first draft of an original tale is complete...you feel as if you could do anything.

When I am alone, I drink my tea with pinkie raised, like a kid playing "tea party." At times, a fancy British accent is involved. Dahling!

You know you're officially an adult when you finally understand WHY Miss Hannigan was drinking bath water.

Your writing should be filled with simple complexities and complex simplicities. Because that is life.