Felt And Craft Quotes & Sayings

You digest and absorb your life by turning it into stories,' he says, 'the same way this theater seems to digest people.' With one hand, he points to a carpet stain, this dark stain sticky and growing mold, branched with arms and legs.
Other events - the ones you can't digest - they poison you. Those worst parts of your life, those moments you can't talk about, they rot you from the inside out. Until you're Cassandra's wet shadow on the ground. Sunk in your own yellow protein mud.
But the stories that you can digest, that you can tell - you can take control of those past moments. You can shape them, craft them. Master them. And use them to your own good. Those are stories as important as food. Those are stories you can use to make people laugh or cry or sick. Or scared. To make people feel the way you felt. To help exhaust that past moment for them and for you. Until that moment is dead.
Consumed. Digested. Absorbed. — Chuck Palahniuk

Finding a sponsor is the toughest part of racing, tougher than driving. — Shawna Robinson

When I was 12 or 13, I started to watch films and understand more about the craft and that helped me to develop. But it also felt like a game, because it was fun. I mean, all of us do it when we're kids to a degree - play acting. But then I came to realise that it's a lovely way to express yourself. So, my passion for it developed as I got older. — Yasmin Paige

Methods of thought which claim to give the lead to our world in the name of revolution have become, in reality, ideologies of consent and not of rebellion. — Albert Camus

The moment you start building or doing stuff beyond your knowledge, soon you will end up by demanding time. — Ajeet Pratap Maurya

A good one iron shot is about as easy to come by as an understanding wife. — Dan Jenkins

I'd written Smashed not because I was ambitious and not because writing down my feelings was cathartic (it felt more like playing one's own neurosurgeon sans anesthesia). No. I'd made a habit
and eventually a profession
of memoir because I hail from one of those families where shows of emotions are discouraged. — Koren Zailckas

I've always felt very convicted that I didn't want to work in kind of the Christian film-making ghetto. My calling was always to show myself approved and worthy to work at the highest level possible in terms of craft and working with very gifted people and trying to be excellent in everything. — Brian Bird

To control the deaths of others - when, where, the craft of ensuring it was a cleanly sliced ending - that was possible. And in some strange way, such killing felt like controlling whatever remained of his own life. — Richard Flanagan

Growing up, my dad owned a restaurant in Washington, DC, and food was something I was passionate about. But when I finally got into it, I felt like it was so late in the game; that's why I worked seven days a week at Craft and Mercer Kitchen. I wanted to see how far I could take it. — David Chang

But now the other half of "us" was gone and, lying there in my shadowy room, I'd be struck with this realization that I had no clue how to be just me again. — Jennifer Brown

I never waited for my Irish Cream coffee to be the right temperature, with a storm happening outside and my fireplace crackling ... I wrote every day, at home, in the office, whether I felt like it or not, I just did it. — Stephen J. Cannell

I really wasn't equipped to be a writer when I left Oxford. But then I set out to learn. I've always had the highest regard for the craft. I've always felt it was work. — V.S. Naipaul

If you're in a hurry to find happiness, slow down. Give it a chance to catch up with you. — Ernie J Zelinski

And he loved my mother. I saw him on the last days of his life lift that oil-scented right hand and enter its fingers into her ordered hair and rustle it free of its pins as if he had been offered velvet or the fur of a rare animal. Forever I hold that gesture. For me it was perhaps the last remembered pleasure belonging to him. It is the unspoiled core of whatever I know of love and family (and I have not been successful at the craft of it). Our shyness at embracing each other - it rarely happened - did not matter. I felt safe and comforted in his house. — Michael Ondaatje

She logged in and read a few of her old posts, smiling at the issues she had raged about and shaking her head at how some of the rants now seemed pretentious and judgmental. She had grown so much without even realizing she had. Mythili typed out the draft, spicing it up subtly and after a last read, she published it. Admiring the brand new post on her main page, she realized she missed writing. She had barely written anything since her last by-line. Typing this out, she felt like she was back with a long-lost friend who understood her. It was like snuggling up in a warm blanket when a thunderstorm raged outside. — Shweta Ganesh Kumar

I am often told that the model of balance for the novelist should be Dante, who divided his territory up pretty evenly between hell, purgatory, and paradise. There can be no objection to this, but also there can be no reason to assume that the result of doing it in these times will give us the balanced picture it gave in Dante's. Dante lived in the thirteenth century, when that balance was achieved by the faith of his age. We live now in an age which doubts both fact and value, which is swept this way and that by momentary convictions. Instead of reflecting a balance from the world around him, the novelist now has to achieve one from a felt balance inside himself. — Flannery O'Connor

I've always felt that if I worked hard enough and continued to refine my craft, while staying curious about our times and our world, I just might have something to contribute. — Jerry Pinkney

Our ambitions must be broad enough to include the aspirations and needs of others, for their sakes and for our own. — Cesar Chavez

Then he began tearing at his clothes. She heard the linen rip and the buttons ping as they scattered over the floor. She thought she should be frightened by the frenzy, but instead she was fascinated that she could elicit such a reaction from a man. That he was fairly mad with wanting her. — Lorraine Heath

I killed it," Athan lamented. "I am a fool." His righteous anger, his arguments, his adoration for the being who claimed Eldaloth's name faded and disintegrated with all the suffering life behind him. A poisonous dread seeped as deep into his soul as the exultant honor and pride he had felt just minutes before. The vast gap between the two emotions a crater into which his very soul plummeted in free-fall. — Brian K. Fuller

I wrote every day throughout my twenties. For a while, I had a boyfriend who was a musician, and he practiced every day. He played scales; I wrote small fictional scenes. It was the same idea - to keep your hand in your craft, to stay close to it. On bad days, when I felt no inspiration at all, I would set the kitchen timer for thirty minutes and make myself sit there and scribble something, anything. I had read an interview with John Updike where he said that some of the best novels you've ever read were written in an hour a day; I figured I could always carve out at least thirty minutes somewhere to dedicate myself to my work, no matter what else was going on or how badly I believed the work was going. — Elizabeth Gilbert

I tended to do anything as long as it felt like an adventure, and to stop when it felt like work. Which meant that life did not feel like work. — Neil Gaiman

With lines that show an unyielding dedication to craft, these poems are not afraid of meaning or the meaningful. More and more every day, the thinking American asks how she is to believe in love when there is war all about her, and in each of her deeply felt lyrics, Elyse Fenton confronts this question with the kind of tenderness one lover reserves for another. If every poem is indeed a love poem,Clamor is indeed a debut worth reading and about which we must make noise. — Jericho Brown

It's not enough to be able to spell "magnificence" in your bedroom. You have to be able to spell it at the microphone during the spelling bee. — Cynthia Lewis