The wall sawyer did not ask the little queen what she did. This was because in the little queen’s kingdom, people only volunteered their doings if they wanted to, and they never asked others their doings. It was considered impolite. Asking what one did was like asking who they were, and that was too simple a question for a very complex answer. Meia Geddes
Before I can tell my life what I want to do with it, I must listen to my life telling me who I am.
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Parker J. Palmer
There is something in the depths of our being that hungers for wholeness and finality. Because we are made for eternal life, we are made for an act that gathers up all the powers and capacities of our being and offers them simultaneously and forever...
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Thomas Merton
He does not call those who are worthy, but those whom He will.
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"Therese Of Lisieux
There is no excuse for anyone to write fiction for public consumption unless he has been called to do so by the presence of a gift. It is the nature of fiction not to be good for much unless it is good in itself.
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Flannery OConnor
In the eyes of others a man is a poet if he has written one good poem. In his own he is only a poet at the moment when he is making his last revision to a new poem. The moment before, he was still...
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W.h. Auden
More Quotes By Meia Geddes
Suffice to say, the dream writer had a way of phrasing things. She could depict the curve of a cucumber, the shape of a sunbeam, the endearing, velvety tilt of a peach, in just such a way that she earned her living selling dreams. One...
The little queen lived in a world where the sky swirled like the sea and nothing was itself for very long. Everything looked to be in brushstrokes.
Cutting down a wall, the wall sawyer could feel the tension in a home ease and something windy rush in circles round her feet. It was addictive, each a sweet victory of art. The tumbling motion of a falling wall was like a volcanic eruption...
Art allows us to die over and over without actually dying. Only we must catch our breath.
I let quiet shape what I say, then realize there is nothing that can be fully said–the reason for gestures and eyes and art. Always something waiting, wanting, expectant, yet also curiously not.
