Dilhara Madawala Quotes & Sayings

And with this sort of increased visibility, there's more money going around in the industry, and it changes a lot, in terms of who gets into the business as a creator, who sticks with it, and who gets pushed out. And I do think it's sort of too bad that what once was a safe haven for truly eccentric, outsider artists is no longer that thing. But there are definitely pros and cons. You could also look at it as bringing in a more diverse crowd. — Adrian Tomine

Surrounded by darkness yet enfolded in light — Alan Brennert

I sighed. "Mom, it's not like we're going to have sex with you home."
"Well, honey, it's good to know that you only have sex when I'm not home."
Daemon coughed as he fought a smile. "We can stay - — Jennifer L. Armentrout

What appears most disquieting to me in isolation is the dilemma of how to use time. There is either too much or too little of it; we either live inside painfully contracting horizons, or feel ourselves isolated in the vastness of space. I seem to have lived with the palm of my hand balanced on the tip of a knife, writing what in theory I would call the Preface to a Future Book. And the relation of time to creation should always appear like that, a ratio that describes the fullness of energy brought to a particular stage of one's life, so that each work is a preface to a stage at which one has still to arrive, the logical extension of which is death.
I live for the blaze of metaphor that unites incongruities. The red wine-stain on my page is like an intoxicant to the dance of words. It is a little ritual I undertake, this sprinkling of wine-spots on paper. — Jeremy Reed

He had been younger and easier then, unfettered by anything like responsibility or wisdom. — Maggie Stiefvater

The great difference between the two feelings is that love is always creative, and fear is always destructive. — Emmet Fox

The timeless challenge in the real world is to help less-talented people transcend their limitations. — D. Michael Abrashoff

Once the scent caught me on the street in Greenwich Village. I stopped in my tracks and looked around. Where was it coming from? A shop? The trees? A passerby? I could not tell. I only knew the smell made me cry. I stood on the sidewalk in Greenwich Village as people brushed by, and felt suddenly young and terribly open, as if I were waiting for something. I live in an ocean of smell, and the ocean is my mother. — Rebecca Wells

People losing each other, their hands slipping loose in a crowd. — Janet Fitch