#tin

Writing became such a process of discovery that I couldn't wait to get to work in the morning: I wanted to know what I was going to say. ~Sharon O'Brien ↗

— Sharon O'Brien

#writing #writing-from-the-heart #writing-process #love

That day, that day when I can gaze at the sea--both of us calm--and I, trusting, having poured my whole heart into my Life Work....when death--black waves!--no longer courts me and I can smile, constantly, at everything because, my bones, there will be so little of myself left to give it. ↗

— Juan Ramón Jiménez

#life-work #nature-writing #poetry #death

Guy struck a jangling chord on the keyboards and then another. 'You know,' he announced, sitting back and crossing his arms. 'We need some new material. We’ve got to write some new songs.' 'Like what?' He shrugged. 'I don’t know. Throw out some ideas.' 'Love! Death! Existential struggle!' Emily intoned dramatically, rattling out a drumroll. 'Agriculture! ↗

— Francine Pascal

#sweet-valley #death

The short story, I should point out, is perforce a labor of love in today's literary world; there's precious little economic incentive to write one... ↗

— Lawrence Block

#short-stories #short-story #writers #writing #love

If you're going to fall out of love with public approval, something interesting will happen: people will be deeply attracted to your work. ↗

— Jeff Goins

#writing #love

There's a lot of talk these days about giving children self-esteem. It's not something you can give; it's something they have to build. ↗

— Randy Pausch

#parenting #inspirational

Without imagination, there would be no creativity. Without creativity, there would be nothing. ↗

— Aneta Cruz

#life #reading #writing #imagination

Life turns, and returns death. Where death digs its claws into the grave only to pull out life, as a baby from a womb; and the recycle of air, the recycle of struggles that never achieve satisfaction, in a constant turning world, of an untuned universe. ↗

— Anthony Liccione

#life #recycle #rotating #satisfaction #struggles

Death is knowing you're about to die,' says Mam. It's seeing the dead and seeing the living all at once. It's wanting not to die and not to live. It's wanting to stay with the last breath when the dead and the living are all around you, and touching you, and whispering, It's all right, Mam. Everything's all right. But there's no way of staying with the last breath. You have to die. ↗

— David Almond

#david-almond #death

We offered her flowers and signalled to her with our penises, but she did not respond with joy.' 'The men with the extra skins didn't look happy. They looked angry.' 'We went towards them to greet them, but they ran away.' Snowman can imagine. The sight of these preternaturally calm, well-muscled men advancing en masse, singing their unusual music, green eyes glowing, blue penises waving in unison, both hands outstretched like extras in a zombie film, would have to have been alarming. ↗

— Margaret Atwood

#humour #mating #imagination