Yakisikli Unluler Quotes & Sayings

I write because to write a new sentence, let alone a new poem, is to cross the threshold into both a larger existence and a profound mystery. A thought was not there, then it is. An image, a story, an idea about what it is to be human, did not exist, then it does. With every new poem, an emotion new to the heart, to the world, speaks itself into being. — Jane Hirshfield

To be an artist means to invite an occupation into your life that requires commitment and hard work, but the rewards and satisfaction you'll get make the work seem like play. But you have to do it every day. — Veronica Lawlor

Oh, wondrous power! how little understood, Entrusted to the mother's mind alone, To fashion genius, form the soul for good, Inspire a West, or train a Washington. — Sarah Josepha Hale

The venerable C.S. Lewis once said, in a way that he alone seemed to be able to say: "You cannot go on being a good egg forever, you must either hatch or rot! — Charles Thomas

Those miserable women who blame the men who let them down for their misery and isolation enact every day the initial mistake of sacrificing their personal responsibility for themselves. — Germaine Greer

I have the window seat. In the two seats beside me are two old ladies, old women, each with a knitted cardigan, each with yellowy-white hair and thick-lensed glasses with a chain for around the neck, each with a desiccated mouth lipsticked bright red with bravado... They seem to me amazingly carefree. They have saved up for this trip and they are damn well going to enjoy it, despite the arthritis of one, the swollen legs of the other. They're rambunctious, they're full of beans; they're tough as thirteen, they're innocent and dirty, they don't give a hoot. Responsibilities have fallen away from them, obligations, old hates and grievances; now for a short while they can play again like children, but this time without the pain. — Margaret Atwood

Twice.
Once for Adam.
Once for Warner. — Tahereh Mafi

Are you listening to the ones who keep quiet? — Joseph Joubert

Fare well we call to hearth and hall
Though wind may blow and rain may fall
We must away ere break of day
Over the wood and mountain tall
To Rivendell where Elves yet dwell
In glades beneath the misty fell
Through moor and waste we ride in haste
And wither then we cannot tell
With foes ahead behind us dread
Beneath the sky shall be our bed
Until at last our toil be sped
Our journey done, our errand sped
We must away! We must away!
We ride before the break of day! — J.R.R. Tolkien

I was trapped in admiration for what I had once admired, as a fly in amber remains the captive of some long-vanished pine. — Gene Wolfe