#rite

There is enough said. Trouble no quiet, kind heart; leave sunny imaginations hope. Let it be theirs to conceive the delight of joy born again fresh out of great terror, the rapture of rescue from peril, the wondrous reprieve from dread, the fruition of return. Let them picture union and a happy succeeding life. ↗

— Charlotte Brontë

#emmanuel #happy-endings #hope #love #readers-and-writers

What did one see if one looked in any depth into the world of this writer's fiction? Elegant self-control concealing from the world's eyes until the very last moment a state of inner disintegration and biological decay; sallow ugliness, sensuously marred and worsted, which nevertheless is able to fan its smouldering concupiscence to a pallid impotence, which from the glowing depths of the spirit draws strength to cast down a whole proud people at the foot of the Cross and set its own foot upon them as well; gracious poise and composure in the empty austere service of form; the false, dangerous life of the born deceiver, his ambition and his art which lead so soon to exhaustion --- ↗

— Thomas Mann

#decay #deceit #fiction #form #writers

...If I ever got sloppy and maudlin, it would be for the streets of my childhood—but no self- respecting writer should ever eulogize a slum... ↗

— John Geddes

#eulogy #maudlin #muse #slum #streets

I've made this decision not to talk to the press about anything that's gone on in my life, but just to write music about it. They can interpret it themselves. ↗

— Bijou Phillips

#anything #decision #gone #i #interpret

Had Mary Shelley fretted so? Maybe yes, maybe no. She’d begun her classic work on a dare. Had culled a dream to bring it into being. But it was not lost on Laura that the story might be a prolonged exercise in Shelley’s personal terrors. The subtitle of the work was 'Prometheus Unbound,' and Laura wondered if Shelley herself was not Prometheus in the form of the wandering monster, who desperately sought love and acceptance but was ultimately driven to face an icy landscape that seemed almost fantastical—the way our own subconscious could be, white and frozen-slippery. ↗

— L.L. Barkat

#mary-shelley #writers #writing #dreams

I'm always writing, even when I'm not at my desk. I write on my hands. I used to write on my kids' hands, too, but they don't let me any more. When I'm driving I sometimes write all the way up my arms. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#any #arms #desk #driving #even

A few fly bites cannot stop a spirited horse. ↗

— Mark Twain

#determination #horse #perseverance #spirited #perseverance

Always do the things fast in your life, because some things are coming from the future towards you; they may separate you forever from doing the things you want to do! Never forget, some things are coming from the future, be fast! ↗

— Mehmet Murat ildan

#life

Every word I write is like a drop of my blood. If it's flowed passionately and long, I need time to recover from the emotion spent before I began a new story. My characters are my life. I have to respectfully and carefully move between them. ↗

— Red Haircrow

#writing #writing-craft #writing-process #writing-style #life

If I ask you to think about something, you can decide not to. But if I make you feel something? Now I have your attention. ↗

— Lisa Cron

#women-writers-on-writing #writing-craft #writing-how-to #science