For a long time, it was like I was part of some special forces unit: I'd land, meet everyone, five minutes later I'd have to do some amazing work, then - boom! - I'm out again. You know, playing supporting parts takes courage.
This is what love does: It makes you want to rewrite the world. It makes you want to choose the characters, build the scenery, guide the plot. The person you love sits across from you, and you want to do everything in your power to...
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David Levithan
Some moments are nice, some arenicer, some are even worthwritingabout.
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Charles Bukowski
Living with him is like being told a perpetual story: his mind is the biggest, most imaginative I have ever met. I could live in its growing countries forever.
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Sylvia Plath
There comes a time in your life when you have to choose to turn the page, write another book or simply close it.
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Shannon L. Alder
When you're missing a peice of yourself, aching, gut wrenching emptiness begins to take over. Until you find the link that completes your very soul, the feeling will never go away. Most people find a way to fill this void, material possessions, a string of...
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Jennifer Salaiz
More Quotes By John C. Reilly
I’d like them to appreciate the power of the individual–and I don’t mean me; I mean the power each person has to make choices and be accountable for himself or herself. I’ve noticed that people are quick to put you in a category–if you come...
To the members of my family who are no longer with us, I’d like to say I’m sorry. There is a quote by Stephen Dunn I’ve always loved; he says, “Our parents died at least twice, the second time when we forgot their stories.” I...
I ask for tons of notebooks for my birthday, the ones with college ruled lines, and I carry them with me, pretend they're my friends, and write anything that comes to mind. Something about my stories makes me happy, allows me to drift away a...
We met in a school elevator, and he could tell from the way I spoke that we had some sadness in common.
I remember watching those balloons as a little boy, each fall, wondering if someday I, too, would be nothing but a balloon in the sky, soaring towards the sun until I begin to fall slowly back to earth and into the hands of a stranger.
