Best 92 quotes in «storyteller quotes» category

You know what a storyteller is, don't you? It's a person that has a good memory who hopes other people don't.

A good storyteller minces words to entertain or inspire the audience. The politicians and religious leaders do much the same, but for a different purpose - to turn otherwise normal people to nutcases.

A story from beginning to end that might entertain, teach, or simply bore your listener. It's all in the delivery, my dear." He got a smug look on his face as he scooted his posterior deeper into the chair and took his pipe between his teeth. "I'm just better at it than most.

Asking storytellers to be genuine is like, asking a chain smoker to quit smoking . Habit of lying isn't easy to fix. Pretend as believing is like selling cigarettes. What else we could do, if we want them to be in our lives...

And suddenly, the once-nameless boy knew he didn't want a stolen name, tarnished with use. What he wanted desperately was a name good enough to give to this girl.

As I write, the story tells itself to me. It’s pure magic and it feels like a sacred bond. I’m always eager & excited to see what kind of adventure it’s going to take me on, and what I’m going to learn along the way…

At one point in your life you have to decide whether you want to become a sachem or a solitary.

A thrilling story can be dull if told badly, but even the most mundane event can be elevated into a tale of epic scale by a good storyteller.

Every poet — every storyteller — requires motivation.

But where did the storyteller go? The one whose words could sculpt A verse that made everything else melt into sense.

Everyone has a story within them, let yours out.

Death is the sanction of everything the story-teller can tell. He has borrowed his authority from death.

First rate magician perform first rate magic effects, second rate magician performs third rate magic effects.

Growing a culture requires a good storyteller. Changing a culture requires a persuasive editor.

I am a story-teller, even a story-teller of renown. May I add now that I am not much to look at? No, I am serious. My face is hideous. A look at me reminds one of a little finger – brown - enlarged to the proportions of a human body, wrapped two thirds down with a cloth about the loins, the entire frame resting on two wobbly knees. I was born bald and not a single strand of hair has ever sprouted on this miserable head. Think of me as a faceless man; in fact, I would rather you think of me as just a voice.

I don't know whether it was Bukowski who said "Find what you love and let it kill you." I have found what I love. I love telling stories. And I am letting it kill me!

I don't know whether it was Bukowski who said "Find what you love and let it kill you." I have found what I love. I love telling stories. And I am letting it kil me!

If you hear what I say and still wish yourself there, wish yourself a hero, wish yourself a hunter, then either I have failed in my telling or you are a fool.

Follow your gut, Storyteller, it will lead to your happy ending.

I am a storyteller and experience the bliss of writing.

I am a storyteller, not a historian, and it's my ambition to create something compelling - something unputdownable and riveting - that chimes with the real history but is, in fact, fiction.

I am the story teller, charged with the secrets of this world and beyond. I am the calm in the storm, the quiet in the quake and the stillness in the dark. I am the old lady with the pot of water when you are dying of thirst. I am the sapling after the forest fire and the child who survives after pestilence. For those who will listen, hear you the first secret. Love is the sea in which all of nature exists and the greatest love of all is that which is spilled for another.

I did not want to tell her what happened, but I had to now. I could not stop talking because now I had started my story, it wanted to be finished. We cannot choose where to start and stop. Our stories are the tellers of us.

If I were a zombie I'd never eat your brain I'd just want your heart

If you just go get one of these little fine arts degrees or writing program degrees, it never forces you to confront your responsibility as narrator, whereas any of the social sciences make you at look the interaction between the storyteller and story. Hurston understood that. But then she and I write out of despised cultures that on some level we feel we're defending.

If you write then you are reborn because by writing about the moment, you can relive it for a second time.

I meet people and they become chapters in my stories.

Magician is the best storyteller in the world.

It was entirely taken for granted that there wasn't any lying in our family, and I was advanced in adolescence before I realized that in plenty of homes where I played with schoolmates, and went to their parties, children lied to their parents and parents lied to their children and to each other. It took me a long time to realize that these very same everyday lies, and the stratagems and jokes and tricks and dares that went with them, were in fact the basis of the scenes I so well loved to hear about and hoped for and treasured in the conversation of adults. My instinct - the dramatic instinct - was to lead me, eventually, on the right track for a storyteller: the scene was full of hints, pointers, suggestions, and promises of things to find out and know about human beings.I had to grow up and learn to listen for the unspoken as well as the spoken - and to know a truth, I also had to recognize a lie.

Magic is a very beautiful mystery. Even the ages old magic effects still surprises the most modern men.

Live your life in such a way that it is going to be the favorite story of your generation and generations to come.

Magicians and Mentalist predict the future because they create it.

Magic is the most interesting art because people not necessarily want to learn to paint after they see a great painting, but they want to learn magic after they see a great magic effect.

Now and then a small red glow would move abruptly, and expanding light up the fingers of a languid hand, part of a face in profound repose, or flash a crimson gleam into a pair of pensive eyes overshadowed by a fragment of an unruffled forehead: and with the very first word uttered Marlow's body, extended at rest in the seat, would become very still, as though his spirit had winged its way back into the lapse of time and were speaking through his lips from the past.

Many storytellers with possibly more potential than Shakespeare, even though I have not read much of him, could not hit much fame because they treated their stories like their wives. Rather than limiting the emotion only to flirting with their stories, they married them, thus limiting their chances of experimenting.

Never be afraid to your share your story.

Maybe stories choose how they are told and who tells them.

Our stories hold unique inspiration for one another.

Once upon a time, there was a story. But no one to tell it.

Pandora launched into a detailed account of her conversation with the hermit crab, reporting that his name was Shelley, after the poet, whose works he admired. He was a well-traveled crustacean, having flown to distant lands while clinging to the pink leg of a herring gull who had no taste for shellfish, preferring hazelnuts and bread crumbs. One day, the herring gull, who possessed the transmigrated soul of an Elizabethan stage actor, had taken Shelley to see Hamlet at the Drury Lane theater. During the performance, they had alighted on the scenery and played the part of a castle gargoyle for the entire second act. Shelley had enjoyed the experience but had no wish to pursue a theatrical career, as the hot stage lights had nearly fricasseed him. Gabriel stopped digging and listened, transported by the wonder and whimsy of Pandora's imagination. Out of thin air, she created a fantasy world in which animals could talk and anything was possible. He was charmed out of all reason as he watched her, this sandy, disheveled, storytelling mermaid, who seemed already to belong to him and yet wanted nothing to do with him. His heart worked in strange rhythms, as if it were struggling to adjust to a brand new metronome. What was happening to him?

Şimdi ben sana yalnız şunu söyleyebilirim: Çocuk kalbinin,çocuk ruhunun bağdaşmadığı her şeyi reddettin.İşte beni teselli eden de budur.Bir şimşek gibi yaşadın sen.Bir defa çaktın ve söndün.Şimşeği çaktıran göktür.Ve gök ebedidir.İşte budur beni teselli eden.Bir başka tezim daha var: İnsandaki çocuk vicdanı,tohumdaki öz gibidir.Ve o öz olmadan tohum filizlenmez,gelişmez.Yeryüzünde bizi neler beklerse beklesin,insanoğlu doğdukça ve öldükçe,insanoğlu yaşadıkça,haç ve doğruluk denen şey de var olacaktır.

shut thy eyes towards my hideousness, My Sweet One, and feel instead my throbbing chest. Open thy ears to my wheedling words. I shall recount my pleasing tales to thee ever and anon, or every night, if thou so wish and we shall spend a splendid lifetime together, this is my promise to thee.

Slid into the folds of all my tales, in furtive whispers, would also be my highest, most esteemed thoughts. History will be kinder to me then, kinder than you have ever been to me.

Some stories remain incomplete but they are beautiful.

Tell me a story. Be my storyteller.

Some stories can only be appreciated by the storyteller Some adventures can only be preserved in the heart of the adventurer.

Son el irresponsable juego de un tímido que se animó a escribir cuentos y que se distrajo en falsear y tergiversar (sin justificación estética alguna vez) ajenas historias.

Tell your story to inspired other people to rise up and live their dreams.

That's what you would do with untold power? Eat cake?

The difference between real life and a story is that life has significance, while a story must have meaning. The former is not always apparent, while the latter always has to be, before the end.