I think there's one thing which distinguishes our art - we don't consider. We don't think. We write a little verse because it comes to us.
I'm awake as soon as the sun crests the eastern hills. I guess I'm motivated because I love just about everything about my life - the writing, the many critters, the art, and all the rest.
You see, unlike most writers today, I do not use a computer. I write the old-fashioned way: on the walls of caves.
I want to write the Boston Marathon of run-on sentences. And since it'll be so long, I'll replace all the commas with the word Gatorade, to help push people through it.
I've finally decided to write about profit for a change But before I really started I already started to feel lame Baby what's it to a beast who manely to money remains untamed
The platonic love I feel for my cousin, made me write this diary ...” Leione
I hope that I capture something in my work that is about the elusive, the magical and powerful and the transformative. The writing in itself is transformative for me.
I got hired by a newspaper to write a column on current events, so I wrote about Benjamin Franklin’s charting of the Gulf Stream.
May I never, I say, become that abnormal, merciless animal, that deformed monstrosity - a virtuous woman.
One minute I was playing chess and doing maths all the time, the next I had been rerouted into more 'normal' girls' activities: reading, writing stories and worrying about my clothes.
It’s the silence that scares me. It’s the blank page on which I can write my own fears.
I don’t mince words—I mincemeat. And combining these two I’m writing a cookbook called, “101 Pies I’ve Never Eaten—And Neither Should You.
I meant to spend the day writing, but instead I spent the afternoon cleaning out my belly button. Historians will thank me one day.
Early on I set out to write the next Great American Novel, and then later on I set out the silverware and enjoyed my dinner in silence.
The bards sing of love, they celebrate slaughter, they extol kings and flatter queens, but were I a poet I would write in praise of friendship.
I like to go to Starbucks and watch the intellectuals. I observe them and their intellectualness. They in turn observe me drinking coffee and being a creeper.
My voice falls into Southern drawl when I am tired, drunk, or in trouble. Too often, my accent is attacked by all three of these realities.
I have always wanted to give you the world, so I started giving you pieces of the oceans that kept us apart.
I have always been quite good at falling in love, but I don’t pretend to know anything about literal happily ever afters.
One time, I went to a restaurant and I asked the waiter for some food for thought. He left, came back, and tried shoving a sirloin in my ear.
I am a writer who came froma sheltered life. A sheltered life can be a daring life as well. For all serious daring starts from within.
