Best 30386 quotes in «writing quotes» category

The riches of adversity; we were made thinkers and writers.

The right to write is too sacred to be wrong with.

The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.

T[he rules of writing] require that the personages in a tale shall be alive, except in the case of corpses, and that always the reader shall be able to tell the corpses from the others.

The rock has split, the egg has hatched, the prismatically plumed bird of life has escaped from its cage. It spreads its wings and is perched now on the peak of the huge African mountain Kilimanjaro. Strange recompense, in the depths of our despair at the unfathomable mist into which all mankind is plunging, a curious force awakens. It is Hope long asleep, aroused once more. Wilson has taken an army of advisers and sailed for England. The ship has sunk. But the men are all good swimmers. They take the women on their shoulders and buoyed on by the inspiration of the moment they churn the free seas with their sinewy arms, like Ulysses, landing all along the European seaboard. Yes, hope has awakened once more in men's hearts. It is NEW! Let us go forward! The imagination, freed from the handcuffs of "Art", takes the lead! Her Feet are bare and not too delicate. In fact those who come behind her have much to think of. Hm. Let it pass.

the romance of solitude and small places, the blurring of identity.

T[he rules of writing] require that the episodes in a tale shall be necessary parts of the tale, and shall help to develop it.

The sacred-souls of authors are displayed in the beauty of their books.

The sacred soul writes the sacred words.

The safest way to success is to write according to the capacity of the stupidest member of the audience.

The San Francisco therapist kept telling me I shouldn’t be terrified of creative experimentation. “I don’t know what’s going to come out of me,” I told her. “It has to be perfect. It has to be irreproachable in every way.” “Why?” she said. “To make up for it,” I said. “To make up for the fact that it’s me.

The scribe was a strict teacher and he did not accept anything less than perfect... Like a mother sensing the baby quickening within her, suddenly, to me, the letters were no longer hostile and unwieldly. I had command of them, with my head and with my hand... The words struck, as clear and as pure as a bell peal on a winter morning.

THE SCRIBE Under the wings Of the feathered Goddess And in the middle Of the three dancing women, The scribe comes alive To reveal mysteries hidden Through divine gifts given The scribe is driven On his mission To wake up All the universe's Men, women and Heavenly children. Under the seven rays of Aten, And from the age of just ten, The scribe comes alive With the ink Of his luminous pen. Below the spectacle of the moon, And in the smile of the sun, The scribe is here to show us How we are all one. THE SCRIBE by Suzy Kassem

The seasonal urge is strong in poets. Milton wrote chiefly in winter. Keats looked for spring to wake him up (as it did in the miraculous months of April and May, 1819). Burns chose autumn. Longfellow liked the month of September. Shelley flourished in the hot months. Some poets, like Wordsworth, have gone outdoors to work. Others, like Auden, keep to the curtained room. Schiller needed the smell of rotten apples about him to make a poem. Tennyson and Walter de la Mare had to smoke. Auden drinks lots of tea, Spender coffee; Hart Crane drank alcohol. Pope, Byron, and William Morris were creative late at night. And so it goes.

These are old words, old stories and we are not here to blindly repeat them. They are not law. They are power, nourishment. There is a river of voices coming out of the past, resonating in the telling of the old stories...We are grounded in its power. It is our connection to each other and to the larger universe.

The sea sounded like a thousand secrets, all whispered at the same time.

These be they that have put off the mortal clothing, and put on the immortal, and have confessed the name of God: now are they crowned, and receive palms.

The seed of our love will always cube within the wonder of infinite.

These Hoes Just Gon Fuck Who Ever Poppin , You Better Be Careful, When you fuck em' Raw!

The secret to success is no secret. Be honest in your words, be trustworthy and share value. Most people won't tell the difference, but those that do are your readers.

These Phoenicians who came with Cadmus and of whom the Gephyraeans were a part brought with them to Hellas, among many other kinds of learning, the alphabet, which had been unknown before this, I think, to the Greeks. As time went on the sound and the form of the letters were changed. At this time the Greeks who were settled around them were for the most part Ionians, and after being taught the letters by the Phoenicians, they used them with a few changes of form. In so doing, they gave to these characters the name of Phoenician, as was quite fair seeing that the Phoenicians had brought them into Greece. (5-58-59)

These poems are cups that I pour my life into. Here, Drink!

The self-addressed stamped envelope. The representation of everything that was wrong with the old publishing industry.

These reasonings will furnish us with an adequate definition of a true critic: that he is a discoverer and collector of writers’ faults. Which may be farther put beyond dispute by the following demonstration: that whoever will examine the writings in all kinds, wherewith this ancient sect has honoured the world, shall immediately find, from the whole thread and tenor of them, that the ideas of the authors have been altogether conversant and taken up with the faults and blemishes, and oversights, and mistakes of other writers; and let the subject treated on be whatever it will, their imaginations are so entirely possessed and replete with the defects of other pens, that the very quintessence of what is bad does of necessity distil into their own, by which means the whole appears to be nothing else but an abstract of the criticisms themselves have made.

These poems are cups that I pour my love into. Here, Drink!

These words and these stories can save a life. Who knows – maybe even your own.

The setting sun threatened to consume me—it could have, you know. It would have been a beautiful death with an honorable eulogy: slain by a magnificent slice of piercing orange energy. I simply turned and walked away; I would live another day.

The shock of recognition is a moment of excitement that shakes the soul. It may be hard to describe, but like other forms of love, you will know it when you feel it

The size of a plane does not change the weather but it will get you above it. The size of your faith may not change your situation but it will get you over it.

The sisterhood of librarians is a non-profit organisation and our goal is to keep imagination alive, not make money.

The size of your audience is more important than the size of your book

The skill of writing needs much patience, practicing, and time. There is no good writing from a quick effort, or a confused writer.

The sky, with a single star, would be dark and boring. A million stars in the firmament makes for something wondrous and bright.

The sky never falls with the rain. It is never weighed down by all that it carries. It takes all of its anchors and turns them into stars. Learn from this.

The snow starts again in the afternoon: fine flakes at first, but becoming gradually heavier. The world is silent. I watch through the window as it continues to fall. I’m supposed to be working on writing this book, but I am staring at the view out of the window, which is like a giant snow globe. Someone has shaken my world and I’m watching as it rearranges itself.

The smell of the sweat is not sweet, but the fruit of the sweat is very sweet.

The Sodomy sea shall cast out fish, and make a noise in the night, which many have not known: but they shall all hear the voice thereof.

The sonnet, a lyrical poem, the beauty and magic... convey with our hearts the truth of the universe in a single moment briefly.

The sooner you realise that your writing is all about you the quicker you’ll be able to write what you’re meant to be writing.

The space where I write is in my head, I suppose.

The spark of wondering is the start of writing.

The spiking temps spiked a fever for cool commons, so I made a plate of tapenade, bruschetta, and prosciutto, with orange creamsicle martinis flowing like a Zen fountain. It was hard for me to believe that I woke up that morning fighting back tears for no reason and all kinds of reasons. It is still... hard for me to believe that you have become no reason, at all.

The starvation of a child has no justification, even if the crops have failed, or the population is too large.

The Stadium Have you ever entered an empty stadium? Try it. Stand in the middle of the field and listen. There is nothing less empty than an empty stadium. There is nothing less mute than stands bereft of spectators. At Wembley, shouts from the 1966 World Cup, which England won, still resound, and if you listen very closely you can hear groans from 1953 when England fell to the Hungarians. Montevideo’s Centenario Stadium sighs with nostalgia for the glory days of Uruguayan soccer. Maracanã is still crying over Brazil’s 1950 World Cup defeat. At Bombonera in Buenos Aires, drums boom from half a century ago. From the depths of Azteca Stadium, you can hear the ceremonial chants of the ancient Mexican ball game. The concrete terraces of Camp Nou in Barcelona speak Catalan, and the stands of San Mamés in Bilbao talk in Basque. In Milan, the ghosts of Giuseppe Meazza scores goals that shake the stadium bearing his name. The final match of the 1974 World Cup, won by Germany, is played day after day and night after night at Munich’s Olympic Stadium. King Fahd Stadium in Saudi Arabia has marble and gold boxes and carpeted stands, but it has no memory or much of anything to say.

The Story Is Always There Sometimes you don't need to speak to someone to know how they are feeling. You don't need to ask what is their story - often people have it written on their faces and you just have to take the time out to read it.

The subconscious mind is amazingly efficient – it wants to work your story out – and while I’ve never experienced it myself, my guess is that writer’s block is the result of the conscious mind having gotten too involved in the process.

The stories I read gives strength to my spirit.

The strangest thing about demons is that they come to love you. As much as they try to murder the very core of you when you first meet, they become your closest companions. I never asked for this devil on my shoulder. But my eyes are burning and I’m not alone. If you see a red gaze at midheaven, look away. It’s exactly as they say: hell is a hungry place.

The stream of Time, irresistible, ever moving, carries off and bears away all things that come to birth and plunges them into utter darkness, both deeds of no account and deeds which are mighty and worthy of commemoration; as the playwright [Sophocles] says, it 'brings to light that which was unseen and shrouds from us that which was manifest.' Nevertheless, the science of History is a great bulwark against this stream of Time; in a way it checks this irresistible flood, it holds in a tight grasp whatever it can seize floating on the surface and will not allow it to slip away into the depths of Oblivion. ...I, having realized the effects wrought by Time, desire now by means of my writings to give an account of my father's deeds, which do not deserve to be consigned to Forgetfulness nor to be swept away on the flood of Time into an ocean of Non-Remembrance; I wish to recall everything....

The story we write today will support the next generation.