#letters

My mother speaks of my step being a source of life-long pain to her, that it is a living death, etc. By the same post I had several letters from anxious relatives, telling me that it was my duty to come home and thus ease my mother's anxiety. ↗

— Elizabeth Garrett Anderson

#anxious #being #come #death #duty

When an actor has money he doesn't send letters, he sends telegrams. ↗

— Anton Chekhov

#letters #money #send #sends #telegrams

I get letters from readers who say that they have always hated reading, but somebody suggested one of my books, they actually finished the book and enjoyed it, and they're going on to read another book. I'm thrilled that they have figured out that reading is fun. ↗

— Caroline B. Cooney

#always #another #book #books #enjoyed

The most interesting letters I received about 'The Name of the Rose' were from people in the Midwest that maybe didn't understand exactly, but wanted to understand more and who were excited by this picture of a world which was not their own. ↗

— Umberto Eco

#exactly #excited #i #interesting #letters

Judging from the letters I've received from obviously feeble-minded persons who wish I would write another These Old Shades, it ought to sell like hot cakes. ↗

— Georgette Heyer

#cakes #hot #i #judging #letters

I get letters from women, and they say, 'I love your Roman nose.' If I weren't on TV and I walked past that same woman, she'd go, 'Did you see the beak on that guy? ↗

— Matt Lauer

#did #get #go #guy #i

He liked to go from A to B without inventing letters between. ↗

— John McPhee

#go #inventing #letters #liked #without

Who will you be my Little Ones? Who will you be, my Little Ones? Will you dance for the fires of your youth and run at midnight to water's edge, diving into summer's heat? Will you ride a wild mare to any thought or dream or love of your making? Will you seek the artistry of your own infatuations and explore all the reckless and eccentric corners of your own impetuous world? ↗

— Carew Papritz

#the-legacy-letters #who-will-you-be-my-little-ones #dreams

Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives — he didn’t belong to the library, so he’d never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake: Mr. H. Potter The Cupboard under the Stairs 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging Surrey ↗

— J.K. Rowling

#letters #life

I’ll tell you what I’m fighting for. Not for England, nor her allies, nor any patriotic cause. It’s all come down to the hope of being with you.. ↗

— Lisa Kleypas

#soldier #love