For me- and for everybody else, probably- this is my first experience growing old, and the emotions I'm having, too, are all first-time feelings. If it were something I'd experienced before, then I'd be able to understand it more clearly, but this is...
I used to think that the world was doing something to me, that the world owed me something. And that either the conservatives or the socialists or the fascists or the communists or the Christians or the Jews or the fascists were doing something to me...
All drama is about lies. All drama is about something that’s hidden. A drama starts because a situation becomes imbalanced by a lie. The lie may be something we tell each other or something we think about ourselves, but the lie imbalances a situati...
Seth Brundle: What's there to take? The disease has just revealed its purpose. We don't have to worry about contagion anymore... I know what the disease wants. Ronnie: What does the disease want? Seth Brundle: It wants to... turn me into something el...
Lone Watie: I'm gettin' better at sneaking up on you like this. Only an Indian can do something like this. Josey Wales: That's what I figured. Lone Watie: You figured? Josey Wales: Only an Indian could do something like that. [Lone Watie hears a gun ...
I venture to suggest that the one vital quality which they had in common was spiritual receptivity. Something in them was open to heaven, something which urged them Godward. Without attempting anything like a profound analysis I shall say simply that...
We truly believed in something back then, and we knew we were the kind of people capable of believing in something - with all our hearts. And that kind of hope will never simply vanish.
Maybe that's how it starts. You stumble upon something that helps you cope, fills a void. Makes you feel something different than what you currently feel. You know in the long run it probably won't be good for you, but you do it anyway. Tell yourself...
And then the lights went low, and our song began. The song I’d been working on since I’d arrived on the island. The one that morphed into something else entirely, something I never intended it to be. But music is like that. Much like life. It tel...
Believe me, I'm no romantic, and while I've heard all about love at first sight, I've never believed in it, and I still don't. But even so, there was something there, something recognizably real, and I couldn't look away.
He told himself she wasn’t really such a bad person, she was just a pest, she was sticky, there was something misplaced in her make-up, something that kept her from fading clear of people when they wanted to be in the clear.
At the beauty of what she had stumbled onto, at the fear that something terrible would happen because she was not vigilant enough. She cried at the fear of something so good that she would not be brave enough to bear it.
Stop comparing yourself with others. If they are good at something, you too are good at something else. Self-confidence is not measured by your own capabilities versus that of others, but by your own needs.
But love is this really powerful thing that everyone's got if they'd just learn how to accept it. I mean, come on. If it's something we all have to give, and if it's something we all want, doesn't that mean there's exactly enough to go around?
The voice is deep and soft, not a sound so much as a feeling. It is storm and wind and leaves twisting in the night. It is roots sucking deep at the earth, and the pale, sightless creatures that live below the ground. But there’s something wrong wi...
You're a hope-killer. 'Cause at least if you'd done it on your back, that's something we c'n understand. Something we c'n do ourselves. But kindness? Luck like that-- it's a million-to-one chance, and you already took the one chance going.
Novel writing is mostly triage (this now, that later) and obstinacy. Trying something, and when that doesn't work, trying something else. Welcoming clutter Surrendering a good idea for a better one. Knowing you won't find the finish line for a year o...
...for poets, at least, experiencing something inexpressible does not mean silence. It's precisely the inexpressible something that poetry is meant to help us see or feel. If it were merely expressible - if there were nothing ineffable about it - the...
The mind travels faster than the pen; consequently, writing becomes a question of learning to make occasional wing shots, bringing down the bird of thought as it flashes by. A writer is a gunner, sometimes waiting in the blind for something to come i...
The root of anger is the perception that something has been taken. Something is owed you, and now a debt to debtor relationship has been established.
My entire life, I've been fascinated with stories. To everyone else, it seemed like the story itself was enough. But I wanted to know why someone told the story in the first place. Had something happened? Or were they only wishing for something to ha...
