#tory

And the snow that fell onto the roof in winter... it fell softly... softly... and it covered the house, the armchair, the books, the children's voices. It covered Anna and Abel, covered their parallel world, and everything was finally, very, very quiet. ↗

— Antonia Michaelis

#anna-and-abel #anna-leemann #crying #depressing #heartbreaking

The words that I will have to find for that explanation will be sharp and they will hurt, much worse than the thorns of roses. ↗

— Antonia Michaelis

#the-storyteller #storytelling

She couldn't disappoint the whole village. There were no wallscreens here, no newsfeeds or satellites bands, and touring soccer teams were no doubt few and far between. (...), that made stories a valuable commodity, and it probably wasn't very often that a stranger dropped in from the sky. ↗

— Scott Westerfeld

#storytelling #storytelling

If a storyteller worried about the facts - my dear Lucian, how could he ever get at the truth? ↗

— Lloyd Alexander

#storytelling #storytelling

Then there is the other secret. There isn't any symbolysm [sic]. The sea is the sea. The old man is an old man. The boy is a boy and the fish is a fish. The shark are all sharks no better and no worse. All the symbolism that people say is shit. What goes beyond is what you see beyond when you know. ↗

— Ernest Hemingway

#symbolism #the-old-man-and-the-sea #storytelling

Whoever tells the best story shapes the culture. ↗

— Erwin Raphael McManus

#storytelling #storytelling

Memory is not a storage place but a story we tell ourselves in retrospect. As such, it is made of storytelling materials: embroidery and forgery, perplexity and urgency, revelation and darkness. ↗

— Noam Shpancer

#storytelling #storytelling

Possibly, she thought, the pool of answers was limited. There are fewer answers in the world than questions, and if you ask me now why that is so, I must tell you that there is no answer to that question. ↗

— Antonia Michaelis

#fairytale #micha #storytelling

Until a few days ago, humans had been little more than legend to him, and now here he was in their world. It was like stepping into the pages of a book -- a book alive with color and fragrance, filth and chaos -- and the blue-haired girl moved through it all like a fairy through a story, the light treating her differently than it did others, the air seemed to gather around her like held breath. As if this whole place was a story about her. ↗

— Laini Taylor

#light #story #color

It is, I think, the rarest of leisure, hard work mixed with hard pleasure, to refine one's time of deep thought or light regard into the utterly self-absorbed and equally and abundantly outward-seeking shape of the personal essay -- a story comprised of found fact, of analyzed emotion, of fictive memory. ↗

— Barry Lopez

#personal-essay #story #equality