#prose

There are very few friends that will lie down with you on empty streets in the middle of the night, without a word. No questions, no asking why, just quietly lay there with you, observing the stars, until you're ready to get back up on your feet again and walk the last bit home, softly holding your hand as a quiet way of saying “I'm here”. It was a beautiful night. ↗

— Charlotte Eriksson

#empty-streets #free #friendship #love #night

Colors shone with exceptional clarity in the rain. The ground was a deep black, the pine branches a brilliant green, the people wrapped in yellow looking like special spirits that were allowed to wander over the earth on rainy mornings only. ↗

— Haruki Murakami

#clarity #colours #prose #rain #spirit

You know that sickening feeling of inadequacy and over-exposure you feel when you look upon your own empurpled prose? Relax into the awareness that this ghastly sensation will never, ever leave you, no matter how successful and publicly lauded you become. It is intrinsic to the real business of writing and should be cherished. ↗

— Will Self

#exposure #inadequacy #prose #self-criticism #writing

...his wife's and his business partner's voices rose and fell in the kitchen, stripping bare between them the meaty scandal of old Mrs. Weedon's collapse and belated discovery. ↗

— J.K. Rowling

#business

I pretended I had urgent business at the prosecutor's table which, in one of The System's obvious tells, was always millimeters from the jury box. ↗

— Sergio De La Pava

#juries #law #prosecution #unfairness #business

I think the International Criminal Court could be a threat to American security interests, because the prosecutor of the court has enormous discretion in going after war crimes. And the way the Statute of Rome is written, responsibility for war crimes can be taken all the way up the chain of command. ↗

— John Bolton

#american #because #chain #command #could

Mediocrity is now, as formerly, dangerous, commonly fatal, to the poet; but among even the successful writers of prose, those who rise sensibly above it are the very rarest exceptions. ↗

— William E. Gladstone

#among #commonly #dangerous #even #exceptions

He dropped the phone back onto its cradle, began to turn around and felt a sudden ice-cold furrow open up in his side. Strength drained from his legs, and a moment later he sank to his knees. There was warmth now that ran over the initial and persistent cold. Mohammed was confused, and barely noticed the briefcase being removed from his grip. He heard the click of a cell phone opening, and a soft beeping as a number was dialed. 'The package is in my possession,' a female voice said, and the phone clicked shut. ↗

— R.D. Ronald

#death-and-dying #descriptive-prose #death

Somewhere deep inside, his humanity had been shaken by something so unnatural, so foreign in its essence, his very being withdrew from it... ↗

— Tamara Rose Blodgett

#retribution #zombies #death

The characters in my novels are my own unrealised possibilities. That is why I am equally fond of them all and equally horrified by them. Each one has crossed a border that I myself have circumvented. ↗

— Milan Kundera

#poetic #poetry #prose #writers #equality