#ashe

Nobody's favorite movie is some dark, dysfunctional slasher story. Everybody's favorite song is a sentimental song. So why all of a sudden is it bad to be sentimental in books? ↗

— Mitch Albom

#books #dark #dysfunctional #everybody #favorite

I'm an angry person, angrier than most people would imagine, I get flashes of anger. What works for me is working out when it's useful to use that anger. ↗

— Alan Alda

#angry #angry person #flashes #get #i

Life is a gamble. You can get hurt, but people die in plane crashes, lose their arms and legs in car accidents; people die every day. Same with fighters: some die, some get hurt, some go on. You just don't let yourself believe it will happen to you. ↗

— Muhammad Ali

#arms #believe #car #crashes #day

When all your stuff gets smashed, everybody gives you new stuff. And when you've been playing the same guitar since you were like 12, that's a lot like dancing with somebody else's wife. ↗

— Gary Allan

#dancing #else #everybody #gets #gives

Editors of open anthologies actively seek submissions from all comers, established and unknown. They are willing to read whatever the tide washes up at their feet. ↗

— Lynn Abbey

#anthologies #comers #editors #established #feet

All the stuff that you visualized that was going to work so beautifully, you discover is trashed, so you jump to something else. ↗

— F. Murray Abraham

#discover #else #going #jump #something

I get offered a lot of the same type of thing... The teenage slasher movies. ↗

— Casey Affleck

#i #lot #movies #offered #same

Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life. ↗

— Berthold Auerbach

#away #dust #everyday #everyday life #life

An interesting thing happened in 1989, right as I was graduating: the stock market crashed and really changed the landscape of the art world in New York. It made the kind of work I was doing interesting to galleries that wouldn't have normally been interested in it. ↗

— Matthew Barney

#art world #been #changed #crashed #doing

If it were possible to talk to the unborn, one could never explain to them how it feels to be alive, for life is washed in the speechless real. ↗

— Jacques Barzun

#could #explain #feels #how #life