#fictional

I was totally absorbed in the real world, the politics, the history, the news, and I just couldn't find my way into the fictional world... When I finally could return to writing the novel, it was in fits and starts. ↗

— David Guterson

#fictional #finally #find #fits #history

It is perhaps both a blessing and a curse that fictional worlds spring into my mind nearly fully formed and it takes quite a while to sift through everything to find the story. ↗

— Erin Morgenstern

#both #curse #everything #fictional #find

Well, the thing about great fictional characters from literature, and the reason that they're constantly turned into characters in movies, is that they completely speak to what makes people human. ↗

— Keira Knightley

#characters #completely #constantly #fictional #great

We, being the Western world, wouldn't let Russia off the hook on debt. So there were demands on debt servicing in the early days until they ran out of reserves. There was no real aid program, just a fictional aid program. ↗

— Jeffrey Sachs

#aid program #being #days #debt #demands

Somewhere there's someone who dreams of your smile, and finds in your presence that life is worthwhile. So, when you are lonely remember it's true: somebody, somewhere is thinking of you. ↗

— Atul Purohit

#life #love #novel #dreams

The language fictional characters use is chosen for effect, at least if the author is concentrating. ↗

— John M. Ford

#characters #chosen #concentrating #effect #fictional

Power surged through him: unfettered power, unimaginable power. It coursed through him and gave life to his maddened cry, feeding it, making it unnecesssary even to breathe. Deeper and deeper his screm became, until it was the primal voice of the very land itself. It was raw, searing. It was the energy of making and undoing, and he had unleashed it. ↗

— Derek Donais

#magic #power #sci-fictional #life

Can I kiss you?” And she would let him, lightly on her lips, a moment of brief anticipation. “Your kisses are like sugar woman.” He would tell her affectionately. “So sweet.” He would close in on her and then ask softly, “Please spend the night with me. ↗

— Keira D. Skye

#couples #kiss #kisses #kissing #love

Now, years later, he had been commissioned to fashion pictures with sugar water and dyes, a holiday mural. He had risen into something he could do, he had been recognized, and those years spent enduring his father's impatience seemed far away. He would do it for number 98,761,580, his love whose hand he held, cold as it was, who had lain beside him in the tunnels, in the filth. What had haunted him was the thought of her lovely body wasting away. It had torn at his eyes, his throat. It had taken away his faith. He painted a band of sugar on the walls of the hotel, the mural reflecting the city back to itself - the deep green park, the holiday windows, lovers under golden angels, flowers spilling out of markets in December, a resurrected skyscraper, a choir of variegated faces singing in front of a red door of a dark church, the homeless - not swept away, not forgotten - their realities on their faces, hands, hair. It was not a Rockwell. There were a few artists, subcontractors, who kept trying to abscond with the project, to make it what it wasn't for the sake of something they likened to a good make-believe before bed. -- 'A Potter's Field ↗

— Meg Sefton

#short-stories #faith

At some point in life I wonder what's next because emotions are temperoral phenomenons ↗

— Akobundu Kelechi

#motivational-quotes #non-fictional-fiction #psychological #motivational