#short

After I had the Caesarean, I was told I had really strong stomach muscles and so would heal very quickly. And I did. I was up walking about within three hours. Six days after having her, I was out shopping and shortly after that I made it to David Walliams' wedding. ↗

— Denise Van Outen

#after #david #days #did #had

I was a bartender in New York and I overheard this girl saying she made $3000 doing a commercial. A kid at work told me, 'Hey, I know this director and he'd really like you!'. So I walked into this guy's office and was like 'I was thinking maybe I could make $3000' and he hired me for commercials, short films, like 15 jobs in a row. ↗

— Pauley Perrette

#commercial #commercials #could #director #doing

Psychiatry enables us to correct our faults by confessing our parents' shortcomings. ↗

— Laurence J. Peter

#correct #enables #faults #our #parents

Life's too short to be sat at home writing all the time. ↗

— Helen Hodgman

#life #life-s-too-short #writing #life

It was the short men that caused all the trouble in the world. ↗

— Ian Fleming

#men #short #trouble #humor

I'm Razo, a member of Bayern's Own," he said, stopping himself from adding "Loafing is just a hobby of mine." "Bayern's Own? But you're a child." Razo looked up to the sky. "I'm not a child, I'm just short. ↗

— Shannon Hale

#child #humor #razo #short #humor

I wait, you play. You speak, I cave. I promise, you break. You game me, daily, you play me. ↗

— Coco J. Ginger

#friendship #games #love #love-story #passion

On the Writing Process: "When in doubt, take it out., ↗

— Barbara DaCosta

#children-s-books #mystery #picture-books #short-stories #writing-advice

Now, years later, he had been commissioned to fashion pictures with sugar water and dyes, a holiday mural. He had risen into something he could do, he had been recognized, and those years spent enduring his father's impatience seemed far away. He would do it for number 98,761,580, his love whose hand he held, cold as it was, who had lain beside him in the tunnels, in the filth. What had haunted him was the thought of her lovely body wasting away. It had torn at his eyes, his throat. It had taken away his faith. He painted a band of sugar on the walls of the hotel, the mural reflecting the city back to itself - the deep green park, the holiday windows, lovers under golden angels, flowers spilling out of markets in December, a resurrected skyscraper, a choir of variegated faces singing in front of a red door of a dark church, the homeless - not swept away, not forgotten - their realities on their faces, hands, hair. It was not a Rockwell. There were a few artists, subcontractors, who kept trying to abscond with the project, to make it what it wasn't for the sake of something they likened to a good make-believe before bed. -- 'A Potter's Field ↗

— Meg Sefton

#short-stories #faith

I live in different worlds. One world where I perform my duty as a part of society. My favorite is my world. The writing's world. ↗

— Ria Tumimomor

#horror #short-stories #love