Unless you're doing Shakespeare or Chekhov... the written word is not sacrosanct.
A lot of stuff written about me is rubbish. I don't know where they get it from, sometimes.
Today I will masterbate! Okay, that was a mistake. I should have written "Today I will masterbate--if I want to!
No one knows how to write a novel until it's been written.
Many people can and have written books, but many have nothing to say.
I haven't written a brochure yet. It's killing me. I know I have a brochure or pamphlet in me yet.
In life you must write your own story, or one will be written for you.
I've always written plays for the purpose of getting something out of my system.
When written in Chinese, the word 'crisis' is composed of two characters. One represents danger and the other represents opportunity.
Passers-by, Out of your many faces Flash memories to me Now at the day end Away from the sidewalks Where your shoe soles traveled And your voices rose and blent To form the city’s afternoon roar Hindering an old silence. Passers-by, I remember lean...
... primitive times had required primitive obedience, that later generations evolved to the point where parents offered themselves as sacrifice - as in the dark knights of the ovens which pocked old earth history - and that current generations had to...
A tear rolled down my cheek And more came down Until tears rolled down like a stream. My eyes were blind with tears for you. They washed my eyes till I could see.
[…] there exists around the written world opened by the work a multitude of other possible worlds, which we can complete by means of our images and our words. Denying oneself this work of completion in the name of some hypothetical fidelity to the ...
And Mrs. Treaclebunny has promised to speak English from now on as well. In fact, she said when she goes to England, that's all she speaks anyway because the animals speak English there. She says anyone who has read children's books with animals in t...
I`ve got a black woolen hat and it`s got Pervert written across the front of it. It`s the name of the clothing label. And I was with my wife and my baby at the supermarket and I didn`t think. I just put my hat on Clara`s head, because it was cold. An...
The Earth Turned to Bring us Closer by: Eugenio Montejo The earth turned to bring us closer it turned on itself and within us until it finally brought us together in this dream as written in the Symposium. Nights passed by, snowfalls and solstices ti...
We are what ballads are written of, what bards sing of. We are epic, you and I.
It was written I should be loyal to the nightmare of my choice.
Poetry is eternal graffiti written in the heart of everyone.
how these words, wait to die in the arms of all the poetry.. yet to be written.
His legend will be written down, eventually, by those who are troubled by it.
