#eat

What’s your story? It’s all in the telling. Stories are compasses and architecture; we navigate by them, we build our sanctuaries and our prisons out of them, and to be without a story is to be lost in the vastness of a world that spreads in all directions like arctic tundra or sea ice. To love someone is to put yourself in their place, we say, which is to put yourself in their story, or figure out how to tell yourself their story. ↗

— Rebecca Solnit

#narration #architecture

An original is a creation motivated by desire. Any reproduction of an originals motivated be necessity. It is marvelous that we are the only species that creates gratuitous forms. To create is divine, to reproduce is human. ↗

— Man Ray

#create #creates #creation #desire #divine

Our creative dreams are subject to grudge-holding when we decide that other people somehow have made their dreams real and we have not. ↗

— S.A.R.K.

#creativity #dreaming #procrastination #writing #art

Art is not in some far-off place. ↗

— Lydia Davis

#creativity #writer-s-block #art

The loves and sorrows that are great are destroyed by their own plentitude. ↗

— Oscar Wilde

#love #sorrow #love

We must not imitate that which we seek to create. ↗

— Georges Braque

#creativity #inspiration #art

Using your talent, hobby or profession in a way that makes you contribute with something good to this world is truly the way to go. ↗

— Simon Zingerman

#business #creativity #feel-good #good-hearted #goodness

Billboard called my solo album, 'Standing In The Spotlight,' a great party album and even said that my raps put the Beastie Boys to shame. ↗

— Dee Dee Ramone

#billboard #called #even #great #party

Jude,” she whispered as she touched his face. “I’m so frightened of this. This bind that links us. It whispers to me to take what you’re offering, but I fear the consequences. I have lived the consequences.” His fingertips traced the column of her throat down over the swells of her breasts where they lingered until her breath caught. “I am not your father, Isabella, and you are not your mother.” “I know, but—” “There are no certainties in life,” he murmured as he lowered his head and kissed the apex of her breast where her heart hammered so hard. “But I can give you this certainty. I love you. And I want you. I have wanted you for so long, and that feeling has only grown. There must be trust between us, Isabella. Passion is not enough for me. I want more from you.” “You ask for so much,” she said, then trailed off. “Not any more than I am offering you. ↗

— Charlotte Featherstone

#isabella #jude #seduction-and-scandal #life

And than suddenly he was there, charging down the hallway like death in a cowboy duster. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#death