48 Quotes About Beautiful Writing

Reading is one of the greatest pleasures in life. It’s an escape from the everyday life, but it’s more than that. Reading expands our horizons and enhances our knowledge. It can even change our lives, if we give it our all Read more

This list of inspiring quotes about reading will inspire you to read more for pleasure or to expand your knowledge.

1
I’m not sure. But there’s something about the darkness, the stillness of this hour, I think, that creates a language of its own. There’s a strange kind of freedom in the dark; a terrifying vulnerability we allow ourselves at exactly the wrong moment, tricked by the darkness into thinking it will keep our secrets. We forget that the blackness is not a blanket; we forget that the sun will soon rise. But in the moment, at least, we feel brave enough to say things we’d never say in the light. Tahereh Mafi
Becoming hurts.
2
Becoming hurts. Kat Howard
She had been born with a different name, to a...
3
She had been born with a different name, to a woman with laughing eyes and warmly whispered words of love who’d died degraded and afraid on a misty Irish morning. C.S. Harris
The ending of your story all depends on the beginning...
4
The ending of your story all depends on the beginning of ours. Piper Payne
All you have to do is choose the right day,...
5
All you have to do is choose the right day, the right weather, and you come upon a hidden place in the morning light where time stopped long before you were born John Burnside
6
From the earth, from the air, sustaining forces pour into us--mostly from the earth. To no man does the earth mean so much as to the soldier. When he presses himself down upon her long and powerfully, when he buries his face and his limbs deep in her from the fear of death by shell-fire, then she is his only friend, his brother, his mother; he stifles his terror and his cries in her silence and her security; she shelters him and releases him fro ten seconds to live, to run, ten seconds of life; receives him again and often for ever. Erich Maria Remarque
Never miss an opportunity of noticing anything of beauty ...
7
Never miss an opportunity of noticing anything of beauty ... Ralph Waldo Emerson
You don't need an entire garden bed, to notice the...
8
You don't need an entire garden bed, to notice the beauty of a flower. Nikki Rowe
9
The river was so blue it seemed to be breathing. Brian Morton
10
A single-file army of ants biting a mammoth tree into uniform grains and hauling it down to the dark for their ravenous queen. and, in reply, a choir of seedlings arching their necks out of rotted tree stumps, sucking life out of death. this forest eats itself and lives forever. Barbara Kingsolver
11
Love is the beauty of being. Lailah Gifty Akita
12
When people are cruel it's often said that they have no heart, only a cold space or lump of ice in their chest. This was never true of Avalon. She had no heart, everyone knew, but there was nothing cold about her. In her chest burned an enormous coal, white-hot, brighter than the North Star. North knew the truth about Avalon: she was made of fire, and she would burn them all. Kirsty Logan
13
But in the name of all that is holy, Mosca, of all the people you could have taken up with, why Eponymous Clent?" murmured Kohlrabi.Because I'd been hording words for years, buying them from peddlers and carving them secretly on bits of bark so I wouldn't forget them, and then he turned up using words like "epiphany" and "amaranth." Because I heard him talking in the marketplace, laying out sentences like a merchant rolling out rich silks. Because he made words and ideas dance like flames and something that was damp and dying came alive in my mind, the way it hadn't since they burned my father's books. Because he walked into Chough with stories from exciting places tangled around him like maypole streamers.." Mosca shrugged." He's got a way with words. Frances Hardinge
14
The sun hitched up her trousers and soldiered on up into the sky. September squinted at it and wondered if the sun here was different than the sun in Nebraska. It seemed gentler, more golden, deeper. The shadows it cast seemed more profound. But September could not be sure. When one is traveling, everything looks brighter and lovelier. That does not mean that it is brighter and lovelier; it just means that sweet, kindly home suffers in comparison to tarted-up foreign places with all their jewels on. . Catherynne M. Valente
15
All great people had critics but they still believe in the beauty of their dreams, fully persuaded to stay focused and determined for the realisationof their dreams. Lailah Gifty Akita
16
The sacred gift of parenthood is inscribe in the universal words ‘Papa’ and ‘Mama’. Lailah Gifty Akita
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The beauty of existence is my joy. Lailah Gifty Akita
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Do not waste your time and life, searching for a job. Utilize your special skills to begin your own work. Lailah Gifty Akita
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I see harmony in everything. Lailah Gifty Akita
20
Together they spent their whole lives waiting for their luck to change, as though luck were some fabulous tide that would one day flood and consecrate the marshes of our island, christening us in the iridescent ointments of a charmed destiny. Pat Conroy
21
If you could forget mortality... You could really believe that time is circular, and not linear and progressive as our culture is bent on proving. Seen in geological perspective, we are fossils in the making, to be buried and eventually exposed again for the puzzlement of creatures of later eras. Wallace Stegner
22
Tonight I can write the saddest lines. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her. To hear the immense night, still more immense without her, And the verse falls to the snow like dew to the pasture. Pablo Neruda
23
Life is a beautiful dream. Lailah Gifty Akita
24
All we had was her room, her stories, and the quiet that settled in as we tried in vain to spread ourselves out and fill the space she'd left behind. Sarah Dessen
25
Is it not enough to dip your tongue into my soul and write poetry? Evelyn Lielou Colon
26
The shriek cut thinly though the drizzling dimness, holding for a long moment. At last it broadened and dropped to the old. Natalie Babbitt
27
The wind swoops over the tenements on Orchard Street, where some of those starry-eyed dreams have died and yet other dreams are being born into squalor and poverty, an uphill climb. It gives a slap to the laundry stretched on lines between tenements, over dirty, broken streets where, even at this hour, hungry children scour the bins for food. The wind has existed forever. It has seen much in this country of dreams and soap ads, old horrors and bloodshed. It has played mute witness to its burning witches, and has walked along a Trail of Tears; it has seen the slave ships release their human cargo, blinking and afraid, into the ports, their only possession a grief they can never lose. Libba Bray
28
Feelings that would not have disgraced a leader who, now that the snow has begun to fall and the mountain-top is covered in mist, knows that he must lay himself down and die before morning comes, stole upon him, paling the colour of his eyes, giving him, even in the two minutes of his turn on the terrace, the bleached look of withered old age. Yet he would not die lying down; he would find some crag of rock, and there, his eyes fixed on the storm, trying to the end to pierce the darkness, he would die standing. He would never reach R. Virginia Woolf
29
Sometimes it is the other way around. A white person is set down in our midst, but the contrast is just as sharp for me. For instance, when I sit in the drafty basement that is The New World Cabaret with a white person, my color comes. We enter chatting about any little nothing that we have in common and are seated by the jazz waiters. In the abrupt way that jazz orchestras have, this one plunges into a number. It loses no time in circumlocutions, but gets right down to business. It constricts the thorax and splits the heart with its tempo and narcotic harmonies. This orchestra grows rambunctious, rears on its hind legs and attacks the tonal veil with primitive fury, rending it, clawing it until it breaks through to the jungle beyond. I follow those heathen--follow them exultingly. I dance wildly inside myself; I yell within, I whoop; I shake my assegai above my head, I hurl it true to the mark yeeeeooww! I am in the jungle and living in the jungle way. My face is painted red and yellow and my body is painted blue. My pulse is throbbing like a war drum. I want to slaughter something--give pain, give death to what, I do not know. But the piece ends. The men of the orchestra wipe their lips and rest their fingers. I creep back slowly to the veneer we call civilization with the last tone and find the white friend sitting motionless in his seat, smoking calmly." Good music they have here, " he remarks, drumming the table with his fingertips. Music. The great blobs of purple and red emotion have not touched him. He has only heard what I felt. He is far away and I see him but dimly across the ocean and the continent that have fallen between us. He is so pale with his whiteness then and I am so colored. Zora Neale Hurston
30
The closest I’d ever got to seeing a naked woman before was black and white cleavage, and then Rosie tossed her clothes in a corner just like they were getting in the way and spun around in the dim light of Number 16, palms up, luminous, laughing, almost close enough to touch. The thought still knocks the wind out of me. I was too young even to know what I wanted to do about her, I just knew nothing in the World, not the Mona Lisa walking through the Grand Canyon with the Holy Grail in one hand and a winning lotto ticket in the other, was ever going to be that beautiful. Tana French
31
She ached: oh, how she ached. Her soul was like one big bruise. Alison Croggon
32
Each instant brought them, more momentous than the explosion of Krakatoa. It was only that no one noticed. We are to accustomed to the absurdity of existence. The loss of a universe is not worth taking seriously. Yukio Mishima
33
When he opened his eyes again, all words escaped him. He had seen her just a second ago and yet his eyes were unprepared for the beauty they saw. Her face was perfect. Her cheeks were still flushed from the excitement. It was the same face he could not wait to see every morning; the same cheeks he had kissed every day for the past four weeks. “You’re not good for me, ” he whispered. Unknown
34
She said his music was tuned to the biggest music there ever was, the music of the stars. Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
35
Something is going to happen, Laura thought. She was going to be kissed. On one side of a kiss was childhood, sunshine, innocence, toys and, on the other, people embracing, darkness, passion and the admittance of a person who, no matter how loved, must always have a quality of otherness, not only to her confidence, but somehow inside her sealing skin. Margaret Mahy
36
Maybe princes aren’t real, ” Sada said. Her eyes were crafty and sad at the same time. “But monsters are.” She opened her mouth wide and showed Azhar the wildflowers sitting on her tongue. Mercedes M. Yardley
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MYTH: Beautiful Writing Trumps AllREALITY: Storytelling Trumps Beautiful Writing, Every Time Lisa Cron
38
I do not believe any person is born knowing how to be human. Everyone has to learn their letters and everyone has to learn how to be alive..Maybe it's not a lesson so much as it's a magic trick. You can make a little girl into anything if you say the right words. Take her apart until all that's left is her red, red heart thumping against the world. Stitch her up again real good. Now, maybe you get a woman. If you're lucky. If that's what you were after. Just as easy to end up with a blackbird or a circus bear or a coyote. Or a parrot, just saying what's said to you, doing what's done to you, copying until it comes so natural that even when you're all alone, you keep on cawing __hello, pretty bird__ at the dark. Catherynne M. Valente
39
For the moment I can think of nothing– except that I am a sentient being stabbed by the miracle of these waters that reflect a forgotten world. Henry Miller
40
I'm like the moon, " he started, "the hidden side of the moon. Not seen because it don't want to be seen. Everyone knows ther's is shadow there, but no one looks. It's like that with me, Byrd. I'm part illuminated, part in shadow-and that part that shines is all you ever wanted to see. But it kept getting smaller, and now it's dark. I'm a new moon now, Byrd. All there is, is shadow. Can you still see me? Do you still love me? . Suzanne Palmieri
41
Stop letting unnecessary thoughts feed your mind. It's nugatory. Focus on your long-time goals and maximize your 86, 400 seconds today. Korina Mercado
42
There are normal hours, and then there are invalid hours, when time stalls and slips, when life -real life- seems to exist at one remove. Jojo Moyes
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There are normal hours, and then there are invalid hour, when time stalls and slips, when life -real life- seems to exist at one remove Jojo Moyes
44
I erupt from the dark, crushing tunnel into a flash of light and noise. A new kind of air surrounds me, dry and cold, as they wipe the last smears of home off my skin. I feel a sharp pain as they snip something, and suddenly I am less. I am no one but myself, tiny and feeble and utterly alone. I am lifted and swungthrough great heights across yawning distances, and given to Her. She wraps around me, so much bigger and softer than I ever imagined from inside, and I strain my eyes open. I see Her. She is immense, cosmic. She is the world. The world smiles down on me, and when She speaks it’s the voice of God, vast and resonant with meaning, but words unknowable, ringing gibberish in my blank white mind. . Isaac Marion
45
Twenty minutes into our walk away from the wall put us deep in a forest of fir, pine, cottonwood, and aspen trees. The lush forest floor was alive and danced with shadows cast from an endless parade of swaying trees. As we approached early evening it was cool and peaceful. The sound of the trees moving in the wind high above seemed like a friendly traveling companion, calling us farther and farther into the depths of the forest. . Patrick Carman
46
Their lives have a size and a shape now. Estha has his and Rahel hers. Edges, Borders, Boundaries, Brinks and Limits have appeared like a team of trolls on their separate horizons. Short creatures with long shadows, patrolling the Blurry End. Gentle half-moons have gathered under their eyes and they are as old as Ammu was when she died. Thirty-one. Not old. Not young. But a viable die-able age. Arundhati Roy
47
And I howled at that swarm and the crops and the sky, and the stars should have quit because there weren't no reason to be shining. Unknown