I come to oil country with a book about radicals who wish for the end of pipelines. But that's not what it's about. It's the friction point of prosperity and concern, ability and disability, the loss of bodily presence and the gain of ghost messages. It's misplaced outrage and well-placed courage. It's banjo song and smoke in your eye. Stories hinge there, swinging this way and that. Kate Inglis
To die will be an awfully big adventure.
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J.m. Barrie
To fall in love with God is the greatest romance; to seek him the greatest adventure; to find him, the greatest human achievement.
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Augustine Of Hippo
Love, like everything else in life, should be a discovery, an adventure, and like most adventures, you don’t know you’re having one until you’re right in the middle of it.
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E.a. Bucchianeri
Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a...
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Hunter S. Thompson
The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.
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Eleanor Roosevelt
More Quotes By Kate Inglis
Jack Kerouac died after throwing up blood. The malt liquor. Then that other guy who shot his wife in the head. Burroughs somebody. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>And I wonder about literary figures. They're all drunk and staggering and haunting people today, I bet, still muttering and...
There's a magic to letting a story and its people unfold with witchcraft and late nights and walks in the woods. You don't lead a story. You follow it.
It's easy to want to be an author. You see it in your mind with sun streaming through windows and a Siamese cat purring on an antique rug and a little pellet stove and somehow the bills are paid and there's wit and self-sufficiency and...
When you've got creative momentum, the last thing you want to do is stop. I'd write and write and wake up with my head slumped over and my fingers still on the keyboard and the last sentence trailing off like eeeeeejjjjjjjjjjjjj . Then I'd finally...
Beautiful publishers say beautiful things and then We're sorry, but no.. and then more beautiful things. It's a shit sandwich with branston pickle and melted gouda. I read it out loud to the kids. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>I stick it to the fridge with the others....
