#fictional

For me, there's a fine line between telling a story that's fictional with lots of details and then removing yourself too much from it, so it's bloodless, a little too fictional. ↗

— Aimee Mann

#bloodless #details #fictional #fine #fine line

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

This isn't your world. It's your parents. Your world is still out there, waiting to be discovered. Always remember that. ↗

— Carroll Bryant

#fictional #love #love-story #lovers #romance

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

You know," Kavita begins, "I think I can pick out my own furniture. I am an artist after all. I do have some taste." "No you don't." Nick plainly states. "No man has taste. Besides, I didn't pick it out, she did. Wives are good for things like that. ↗

— Carroll Bryant

#fiction #fiction-novel #love #lovers-fictional #romance

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

— Akobundu Kelechi

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

I like New York. There are similarities with London that make it feel rather like home, but at the same time it's slightly fictional. ↗

— Clive Anderson

#fictional #home #i #like #london