#loc

My imagination was running amok again. Twice in one night. This never happens when I’m sitting in front of a typewriter. ↗

— Gary Reilly

#humor #imagination #writer-s-block #writing #imagination

I love Sherlock Holmes. I've got all his books, leather-bound. What I thought was great about Sherlock Holmes was that not only was he a supersleuth, he was also a hard worker. Not only did he go out and solve the crimes, he came home and wrote it all down. Fantastic. That's why I admire him. ↗

— Steve Coogan

#sherlock-holmes #writing #love

I never told my love vocally still. ↗

— Emily Brontë

#love #love

Love is the cage and the cage is closed and the door is locked and nobody’s home. ↗

— Ashraf Siddiqui

#closed #door #locked-home #love #nobody

Click. The door swung open. "Three," James said with a slightly self-satisfied smile. "Well done," Caroline said. He smiled back at her. "I've never met a woman or a lock that didn't love me. ↗

— Julia Quinn

#love

But unfriendly is usually one of those things you pick up on right away. You know, like B.O. There's no hiding it if it's there. ↗

— Sarah Dessen

#lock-and-key #nate-cross #sarah-dessen #humor

I get no sense from his note at all,” said Will, bounding to his feet, “except that he can quote Tennyson’s lesser poetry. Sophie, how quickly can you have Tessa ready?” “Half an hour,” said Sophie, not looking up from the dress. “Meet me in the courtyard in half an hour, then,” said Will. “I’ll wake Cyril. And be prepared to swoon at my finery. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#humor #humorous-quotations #will-herondale #humor

There was something in his gaze that told her he liked how she looked in his clothes. It had to be a bloke thing, because she certainly wouldn't want to see him wearing hers. ↗

— Kady Cross

#kady-cross #the-girl-in-the-clockwork-collar #humor

Just roll me in fairy dust and call me a unicorn. ↗

— Lita Burke

#fairy #humor #steampunk #unicorn #wizard

When she got back from taking Cassie to school Fancy knew that she ought to be working on her wilderness romance. She had promised thirty thousand words to her editor by tomorrow, and she had only written eleven. Specifically: His rhinoceros smelled like a poppadom: sweaty, salty, strange and strong. Her editor would cut that line. ↗

— Jaclyn Moriarty

#humor #romance-novel #writers #writers-block #humor