#journal

And I'm going to tell the truth: I didn't like that Sean Penn movie Into the Wild so much. Yes! I know it was critically acclaimed. I know it won all these awards! It's very sad that a boy is dead and all. But I thought the movie Enchanted, with the singing princess and the chipmunk and the people dancing in Central Park, was cuter. So there! ↗

— Meg Cabot

#princess #movies

My comments are reserved for reputable journalists. ↗

— Ward Churchill

#journalists #reputable #reserved

Journalists, especially English journalists, were very cruel to me. They said I only knew three chords when I knew five! ↗

— Leonard Cohen

#cruel #english #especially #five #i

I write journals and would recommend journal writing to anyone who wishes to pursue a writing career. You learn a lot. You also remember a lot... and memory is important. ↗

— Judy Collins

#anyone #career #i #i write #important

I have nothing against Sean Penn. I don't even mind that he ended up divorcing Madonna. I mean, I still like Shia LaBeouf even though he chose to star in Transformers, which turned out to be a movie about robots from space. That Talk. Which is just as bad as choosing to divorce Madonna, if you ask me ↗

— Meg Cabot

#princess #movies

I would never let myself knock out a journalist. ↗

— Gerard Depardieu

#journalist #knock #myself #never #out

Every journalist owes tribute to the evil one. ↗

— Jean de La Fontaine

#evil #journalist #owes #tribute

Americans have known about mounting inequality and king-sized Wall Street bonuses for years. But we also had an entire genre of journalism dedicated to brushing the problem off. ↗

— Thomas Frank

#also #brushing #dedicated #entire #genre

A journalist and an information architect face exactly the same problem - how to give shape to the pile of information in front of you in a way that will make it easy and natural for people to comprehend. I can't imagine any better preparation for the work I do now. ↗

— Jesse James Garrett

#architect #better #comprehend #easy #exactly

There is, of course, always the personal satisfaction of writing down one's experiences so they may be saved, caught and pinned under glass, hoarded against the winter of forgetfulness. Time has been cheated a little, at least in one's own life, and a personal, trivial immortality of an old self assured. And there is another personal satisfaction: that of the people who like to recount their adventures, the diary-keepers, the story-tellers, the letter-writers, a strange race of people who feel half cheated of an experience unless it is retold. It does not really exist until it is put into words. As though a little doubting or dull, they could not see it until it is repeated. For, paradoxically enough, the more unreal an experience becomes - translated from real action into unreal words, dead symbols for life itself - the more vivid it grows. Not only does it seem more vivid, but its essential core becomes clearer. One says excitedly to an audience, 'Do you see - I can't tell you how strange it was - we all of us felt...' although actually, at the time of incident, one was not conscious of such a feeling, and only became so in the retelling. It is as inexplicable as looking all afternoon at a gray stone of a beach, and not realizing, until one tries to put it on canvas, that is in reality bright blue. ↗

— Anne Morrow Lindbergh

#feeling #journals #meaning #stories #time