Being a man not without a frequent consciousness that there was some charm in this life he led, he stood still after looking at the sky as a useful instrument, and regarded it in an appreciative spirit, as a work of art superlatively beautiful. For a...
The scene is a writer's study, shabby, drafty but tax-deductible. The writer is reading the last hundred pages of his work in progress. For the past fifty or so, a kind of slow terror has been rising in his breast. All these pages had seemed necessar...
A preoccupation with power - black power, student power, flower power, poor power, 'the power structure' - is the striking aspect of the American political scene at the moment. Oddly enough, obsession with power goes hand in hand with a fear of power...
One more word about giving instruction as to what the world ought to be. Philosophy in any case always comes on the scene too late to give it. As the thought of the world, it appears only when actuality is already there cut and dried after its proces...
For some, like me, writing comes at a price. My best creations were written while I was emotionally ripped open. I've spent some scenes so mentally self-exposed that I could barely see what I was writing. And as I sit here-my heart pounding, heavines...
Nicky Santoro: Ace don't... listen, don't... don't make a scene, all right? Ace Rothstein: I want to just talk. I want to talk to that Irish bitch. Nicky Santoro: She didn't know who to turn to. She... she didn't know where to turn. She was tryin' to...
[deleted scene; Daniel and Sam are discussing Sam's true love] Daniel: Option One: ask her out. Sam: Impossible. Daniel: Fair enough. Option Two: become her friend. Sam: She's the most popular girl in school and she hates boys. Daniel: Okay. Option T...
[first lines] [George sits on a train on a dark night looking depressed, scene cuts to girl with red dress running through field whimpering as George and Lennie escape from her] George: [to Lennie] Come on. [woman continues running in fright as Georg...
[first lines] Gené: Relax. You're feeling calmer and calmer. Now imagine a movie screen, opening before you. On it, imagine your favorite place. Concentrate on your breathing, allowing your whole body to relax, to feel at peace. Keep it going. Just ...
Virgil Earp: What the hell kinda town is this? Morgan Earp: Nice scenery. Doc Holliday: Well, an enchanted moment. Josephine Marcus: Interesting little scene. I wonder who that tall drink of water is. Mr. Fabian: My dear, you've set your gaze upon th...
[first lines] Paikea: In the old days, the land felt a great emptiness. It was waiting. Waiting to be filled up. Waiting for someone to love it. Waiting for a leader. [child birth scene] Paikea: And he came on the back of a whale. A man to lead a new...
[first lines] Holly Sargis: [voice over narration] My Mother dies of pneumonia when I was just a kid. My Father kept their wedding cake in the freezer for ten whole years. After the funeral he gave it to the yard man. He tried to act cheerful but he ...
In writing I try to pare down the descriptive bits. If I feel that I could say something in as few words as possible, then I would rather do it than to go on padding. One should describe sufficiently to give the reader a sense of what one feels, but ...
Why sacrifice some for the benefit of others? It’s generally the best and the bravest who choose to lay down their lives for the sake of those who hide in their holes. So why favor the sacrifice of the righteous in order to permit the less righteou...
Japhy was considered an eccentric around the campus, which is the usual thing for campuses and college people to think whenever a real man appears on the scene - colleges being nothing but grooming schools for the middleclass non-identity which usual...
The magic in writing is not so much using your imagination as it is allowing the reader to uses theirs. When I write a novel I’m not going to hand walk you through each scene. Avid readers tend to have very high IQ’s so I’m constantly aware of,...
With my naked eye, on nights the moon climbs slowly, sometimes so dusted with rust and rose, brown, and gold tones that it nearly drips earth colors and seems intimately braided with Earth, it feels close, part of this world, a friend. But through th...
Journalism, to me, is just another drug – a free ride to scenes I'd probably miss if I stayed straight. But I'm neither a chemist nor an editor; all I do is take the pill or the assignment and see what happens. Now and then I get a bad trip, but ex...
Venice appeared to me as in a recurring dream, a place once visited and now fixed in memory like images on a photographer’s plates so that my return was akin to turning the leaves of a portfolio: a scene of the gondolas moored by the railway statio...
Magnus had animated one of his magnificent Chinese fans, and it flapped ineffectively at him, barely stirring the breeze. It was, if he was completely honest with himself (and he did not want to be), a bit too hot for this new striped blue-and-rose-c...
That guy with the silver hair, he’s your dad, right?” Amber questioned, surveying the scene. “Yes,” I said, reluctant to say anything but, considering what was happening, figured was the least of my worries. “Ooo la la. He’s, like, totall...
