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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #write
I wrote. I wrote all the things I couldn’t say to him. I wrote about how much I believed in us. I wrote about how much I trusted God. I wrote that I was praying for him. I wrote down all the jokes I could remember, which weren’t many. ↗
I love the writers of my thousand books. It pleases me to think how astonished old Homer, whoever he was, would be to find his epics on the shelf of such an unimaginable being as myself, in the middle of an unrumored continent. I love the large minority of the writers on my shelves who have struggled with words and thoughts and, by my lights, have lost the struggle. All together they are my community, the creators of the very idea of books, poetry, and extended narratives, and of the amazing human conversation that has taken place across the millennia, through weal and woe, over the heads of interest and utility. ↗
Sometimes, when it’s going badly, she wonders if what she believes to be a love of the written word is really just a fetish for stationery. The true writer, the born writer, will scribble words on scraps of litter, the back of a bus tickets, on the wall of a cell. Emma is lost on anything less than 120gsm. ↗
Luego recordarás estos días como los mejores de tu vida, piensa Alejandra. Te conoces, sabes que querrás volver. Pero ya no podrás. Volver ya no será posible en cuanto compres el pasaje, en cuanto subas al avión. Sufrirás menos, es cierto. Pero nunca lograrás ser tan feliz. Tampoco lograrás amar a nadie tanto. El final de la violencia y el final del amor, piensa Alejandra, echada en su cama. La resignación, ser como las demás. Curarse, superar el primer amor, lamer las heridas hasta que cicatrizan. Huir ↗
The only time I've ever learned anything from a review was when John Lanchester wrote a piece in the Guardian about my second novel, The Heather Blazing. He said that, together with the previous novel, it represented a diptych about the aftermath of Irish independence. I simply hadn't known that – and I loved the grandeur of the word "diptych". I went around quite snooty for a few days, thinking: "I wrote a diptych." [Colm Tóibín, Novelist – Portrait of the Artist, The Guardian, 19 February 2013] ↗
