The idea that you might end up in a job that doesn't allow you to be who you are, over the course of a lifetime, is still one of the most chilling nightmares to me. It's a good metaphor for fears I have about losing my soul in some accidental, mundane way. So, to me, these jobs that my characters have are very loaded. They immediately suggest a complex character to me, a woman who is, say, a secretary, but also a vigilante on behalf of her own soul. . Miranda July
I ran across an excerpt today (in English translation) of some dialogue/narration from the modern popular writer, Paulo Coelho in his book: Aleph.(Note: bracketed text is mine.).. 'I spoke to three scholars, ' [the character says 'at last.']. .two of them said that, after death,...
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Roman Payne
We're not mad. We're inhabited
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Sue Moorcroft
Don’t write with a pen. Ink tends to give the impression the words shouldn’t be changed. Write with what gives you the most sensual satisfaction. Write in a hard-covered notebook with green lined pages. <span style="margin:15px; display:block"></span>Green is easy on the eyes. Blank white pages...
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Richard Hugo
A little talent is a good thing to have if you want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every scar.
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Stephen King
I think there are two types of writers, the architects and the gardeners. The architects plan everything ahead of time, like an architect building a house. They know how many rooms are going to be in the house, what kind of roof they're going to...
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George R.r. Martin
More Quotes By Miranda July
I walked down the hall and saw that [she] was sitting on the floor next to a chair. This is always a bad sign. It's a slippery slope, and it's best just to sit in chairs, to eat when hungry, to sleep and rise and...
Inelegantly, and without my consent, time passed.
Some people need a red carpet rolled out in front of them in order to walk forward into friendship. They can't see the tiny outstretched hands all around them, everywhere, like leaves on trees.
... we had once called out hello into the cauldron of the world and then run away before anyone could respond.
Sometimes I lie in bed trying to decide which of my friends I truly care about, and I always come to the same conclusion: none of them.
