41866657 Quotes & Sayings

There are ... otherwise quite decent people who are so dull of nature that they believe that they must attribute the swift flight of fancy to some illness of the psyche, and thus it happens that this or that writer is said to create not other than while imbibing intoxicating drink or that his fantasies are the result of overexcited nerves and resulting fever. But who can fail to know that, while a state of psychical excitement caused by the one or other stimulant may indeed generate some lucky and brilliant ideas, it can never produce a well-founded, substantial work of art that requires the utmost presence of mind. — E.T.A. Hoffmann

With all due respect, the Mona Lisa is overrated. — Paulo Coelho

To talk about being, and to be, are two different worlds, just as talking about a delicious food is not the same as eating it. — Allan S.

When a person speculates about my identity, it reveals something about their own background and preferences. If the canvas is blank; the only thing people can see on its surface is themselves. — John Twelve Hawks

Bad kitty!" Razor buzzed again from Keirran's shoulder. His huge ears flapped as he bounced up and down. "Evil, bad kitty! Shave off fur! Throw kitty off mountain! Burn, burn! — Julie Kagawa

When I was doing character films, I would always try to find something to subvert the standard. You know, to play them exactly for what they are. That's the fun for me. — Thomas Jane

Do you like Cam?" the girl asked me casually. I wondered how she knew him - I thought he'd been a nobody just like me.
"I barely even know him," I told her, and her face relaxed. She was relieved. I recognized that look in her eyes - dreamy and hopeful. It must have been the way I looked when I used to talk about Conrad, used to try to think of ways to insert his name into conversation. It made me sad for her, for me. — Jenny Han

Frank, hunched against a bastard wind knifing in off the Irish Sea, isn't sure at first where the sound is coming from. It's barely light and a soft insistent hiss sits below the whining gale, like white-noise feedback at song's end. He leans a little closer and realises the source is sand rattling against the charred skin stretched tom-tom tight across the dead man's face. — Ed Chatterton

The breaking wave and the muscle as it contracts obey the same law. Delicate line gathers the body's total strength in a bold balance. Shall my soul meet so severe a curve, journeying on its way to form? — Dag Hammarskjold