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But most of all books (I say again and again) are like the Thirty-Mile Woman from Toni Morrison's Beloved: 'She is a friend of my mind. She gather me, man. The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order.' ~ Junot Diaz, author of the Pulitzer Prize novel The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. ↗
#life
I want, I want, I want... At this point I'm just a mass of seething wants, but what I want I'm not really sure of. (Like going to the fridge, and opening it, letting all the cold air out...and not knowing what it is you want to eat. You stand with the door open hoping that something will you inspire you.) I'm standing with the door open at the fridge of life, and I want. ↗
Truth flows from universal law, not personal views. ↗
#boomer-retirement #leadership-books #leadership-tips #life-signature #stress-management
Perhaps the hardest thing in all literature— at least I have found it so: by no voluntary effort can I accomplish it: I have to take it as it comes— is to write anything original. And perhaps the easiest is, when once an original line has been struck out, to follow it up, and to write any amount more to the same tune. ↗
No, she laughed." How on earth could that be done? If you try to laugh and say ‘No’ at the same time, it sounds like neighing — yet people are perpetually doing it in novels. If they did it in real life they would be locked up. ↗
Life is but a flash of time, a momentous flicker-- in the life that we know and space we live in on earth.© VW ↗
Welcome to Book-a-holic Anonymous. Hi, I'm glyn and I addictive to the written word. I love the smell of the blackest ink sliding across lightly texture paper. My eyes squint against the lost of time within the pages of story. Sorry to say that I don't think there's a cure for my compulsion to lose myself within life and times of those characters bound between the covers. ↗
I could not give up either of these worlds, neither the book I am holding nor the gleaming forest, though I have told you almost nothing of what is said here on these grim pages, from the sentences of which I’ve conjured images of a bleak site years ago. Here in this room, I suppose, is to be found the interior world of the book; but it opens upon a world beyond the windows, where no event has been collapsed into syntax, where the vocabulary, it seems, is infinite. The indispensable connection for me lies with the open space (of the open window ajar year round, never closed) that lets the breath of every winter storm, the ripping wind and its pelting rain, enter the room. ↗
Stories were different, though: they came alive in the telling. Without a human voice to read them aloud, or a pair of wide eyes following them by flashlight beneath a blanket, they had no real existence in our world...They could take root in the imagination and transform the reader. Stories wanted to be read, David's mother would whisper. They needed it. It was the reason they forced themselves from their world into ours. They wanted us to give them life. ↗
#books #imagination #life #reading #stories
You don’t get one chance at life but many over one lifetime. ↗
#elize-amornette #elize-amornette-author #private-emotions-trilogy #romance-book #romance-novel-books
