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You say you have nothing to write about? How do you find things to talk about? You can write about those things you like to talk about, that's your area of expertise
Bangambiki Habyarimana
. If you want to write, just write anything that comes into your mind. You will be surprised at how you can force inspiration to stand on your side.
Bangambiki Habyarimana
A writer is never alone, he is always with himself
Bangambiki Habyarimana
We write, not because we claim to know more than others, but perhaps because we want to know more than others. Writers are explorers
Bangambiki Habyarimana
Words disappear in the air, but writing remains. If you want something to be remembered about you, write it down
Bangambiki Habyarimana
I am what I have ever read
Bangambiki Habyarimana
The world would have been a better place if some men had just shut their mouths.
Bangambiki Habyarimana
As writers we live life twice, like a cow that eats its food once and then regurgitates it to chew and digest it again. We have a second chance at biting into our experience and examining it. ...This is our life and it's not going to last forever. There isn't time to talk about someday writing that short story or poem or novel. Slow down now, touch what is around you, and out of care and compassion for each moment and detail, put pen to paper and begin to write.
Natalie Goldberg
The first treatise on the interior of the body, which is to say, the treatise that gave the body an interior , written by Henri De Mondeville in the fourteenth century, argues that the body is a house, the house of the soul, which like any house can only be maintained as such by constant surveillance of its openings. The woman’s body is seen as an inadequate enclosure because its boundaries are convoluted. While it is made of the same material as a man’s body, it has ben turned inside out. Her house has been disordered, leaving its walls full of openings. Consequently, she must always occupy a second house, a building to protect her soul. Gradually this sense of vulnerability to the exterior was extended to all bodies which were then subjected to a kind of supervision traditionally given to the woman. The classical argument about her lack of self-control had been generalized.
Mark Wigley
If you are writing fiction, think like a god. Release all the power of your imagination; create worlds and destroy them at your will, create as many miracles as your story needs
Bangambiki Habyarimana
I don't understand this irony - valuable things like cars, gold, diamond are made up of hard materials but most valuable things like money, contracts and books are made up of soft paper.
Amit Kalantri
Lack of courage is what makes big dreams to sit in the ink of the paper instead of them running in the shoes of actions. Without courage, you remain a dreamer!
Israelmore Ayivor
Best friend is like a pen and we're the paper. We'll not complete without their ink
Lucy 'Aisy
The paper is my savior, the pen my blood, to words that shed my world.
Anthony Liccione
A little deed done very well is better than a mighty plan kept on paper, undone. Wishes don't change the world; it's actions that do this business!
Israelmore Ayivor
GOD PUNISHES NOT FOR WORLD TO LAUGH,I AM NOT A EMOTIONLESS PAPER OF GRAPH,EVEN I AM NOT THE WORLD'S STAFF,DON'T ANGRY THINKING ME A CALF.
merlin8thomas
It is Obscene to keep Printing Newspapers in the Digital Era
Vineet Raj Kapoor
In order to protect their good names for posterity, many writers never wrote what they thought or the truth as it stood. That's why truth still lies hidden in matters of power, sex and religion. No wonder they chose to do so, many who dared paid with their heads
Bangambiki Habyarimana
It taught that there are three versions of things: the one I see in my mind, and the one that carries onto the paper, and then what it ultimately becomes.
Lauren DeStefano
These bits of paper are covered with lies. They poison your minds. And so long as they exist, you cannot hope to see the world as it truly is.(...)You turn to them for answers and salvation. (...) You rely more upon them than upon yourselves. This makes you weak and stupid. You trust in words. Drops of ink. Do you ever stop to think of who put them there? Or why? No. You simply accept their words without question. And what if those words speak falsely, as they often do? This is dangerous.
Oliver Bowden
When that little clock on my wall says “Olaotan! Olaotan!! Olaotan!!! It’s half past time to write”, I only have three things at my disposal: A pen, A piece of paper, and a crowded mind.
Olaotan Fawehinmi
Writing is the dancing of the mind on a stage called paper.
Debasish Mridha
Bookworms are the most precious worms in the world when they are humans, feeding upon the paper's body with their starving minds.
Munia Khan
I count everything. Even numbers, odd numbers, multiples of 10. I count the ticks of the clock i count the tocks of the clock I count the lines between the lines on a sheet of paper. I count the broken beats of my heart I count my pulse and my blinks and the number of tries it takes to inhale enough oxygen for my lungs. I stay like this I stand like this I count like this until the feeling stops. Until the tears stop spilling, until my fists stop shaking, until my heart stops aching. There are never enough numbers.
Tahereh Mafi
Try to leave an Impression on someone’s Heart, rather than a Paper.
Udayveer Singh
Oh, well, faint heart never won so much as a scrap of paper
Dorothy L. Sayers
Even a broken heart doesn't warrant a waste of good paper.
Dodie Smith
A poetess is not as selfishas you assume.After months of agonising over her marriage of words—the bride—and spaces—the groom,she knows that as soonas she has penned the poem,it’s yours to consume.So, without giving it a think,she blows on the inkand the letters fly awaylike dandelions on a windy day,landing on hands and lips, on hearts and hips.But more often than not,you can easily spotthem trodden and forgotten,becoming sodden and rotten.Yet, she will continue to makewhat’s others to takebecause selfishness is not the mark of a poetess.
Kamand Kojouri
All I need to dois place my pen against paperand your lovewrites for me.
Kamand Kojouri
I write amongst the stars, and the canvased paper moon. I paint the fields of green, sprinkling morning dew. I teach the birds to sing, a tweet, a tweet, times two. And when my busy day is done, I dream sweet dreams of you.
N'Zuri Za Austin
And then another letter had come from Christopher, so devastating that Amelia wondered how mere scratches of ink on paper could rip someone's soul to shreds. She had wondered how she could feel so much pain and still survive.
Lisa Kleypas
I can say that what you know is just a nothing or let's say thats some kind a small of peace of paper. I also know like you... or probably little more but it's nothing compared to everything.
Deyth Banger
I haven’t written you a poem in years it seems.How can it be my faultwhen the words to describe you have not yet been created?When the alphabet lacks the very letters?How can it be my fault when your loveliness only growsby the time I reach for pen and paper?Tell me how I am at faultwhen I am only a beginner in poemsand you are exquisite poetry?To write you in words is to put a veil upon you.Why must I writewhen I can kiss you instead?
Kamand Kojouri
One author said "I write because I want to live a footprint in the sands of history.” It's hard to live a footprint in the sands of history when giants are passing through the same sands unless you are one of the giants
Bangambiki Habyarimana
I used to be afraid about what people might say or think after reading what I had written. I am not afraid anymore, because when I write, I am not trying to prove anything to anyone, I am just expressing myself and my opinions. It’s ok if my opinions are different from those of the reader, each of us can have his own opinions. So writing is like talking, if you are afraid of writing, you may end up being afraid of talking
Bangambiki Habyarimana
I am not a supporter of burning books; but like poison, some books should be kept away from simple minds who can't take in the strong content they provide
Bangambiki Habyarimana
I am going to build a fortress of books.Will you come inside and live with me?
Kamand Kojouri
There is no revelation in my words. I am merely stating what others have forgotten to write down.
Kamand Kojouri
You can lead if you can serve. You can serve when you can love. You can love when you are graced. The truth is that God knows love will be needed in volumes, this is why he made his grace abundant. Leaders are lovers. Misleaders are haters!
Israelmore Ayivor
Ballot papers don’t determine who leads; they determine who takes which position. As to whether that person occupying the position will lead or will manipulate, character must come to prove it.
Israelmore Ayivor
The personal screenplay- where you dive into the terrifying depths of your soul, unearth the most intimate details about yourself, and put it on paper for the world to see. Proceed with caution, for madness lies ahead.
A.D. Posey
The pages afforded glimpses into my soul where I'd hidden it, behind masks of paper and ink.
Rachel L. Schade
To say she is only a woman is to say a violin is a piece of wood with strings, and Dante is mere ink printed on paper.
Bruce Crown
I write our names on the page.What of it, if the paper will be burned?I write our names in the sand.What of it, if the shore will be washed by waves?I write our names on trees that will be cutand benches that will be painted,but what of it?I will keep on writing our namesbecause in this world of ephemera, You and I are the only constant.
Kamand Kojouri
Decisions are the privilege we’ve been granted to have a hand in penning the script of our lives. And in the writing, the question is not the availability of the paper or the pen. The question is the wisdom to use them rightly.
Craig D. Lounsbrough
I write because the security of your love allows me to develop my craft without concerning myself with trivialities — as if your love could be any more complete. But I write, in the first place,because of you, my muse. I write for your green eyes to glance at my humble words and for the pleasure of hearing you utter them.
Kamand Kojouri
I came to pen another poem for you, but even every unwritten poem is you.
Kamand Kojouri
Poetry is jealous of you tonight, for as soon as I come to pen a few words, your perfume attacks me in the most civilised manner and I forget myself. I forget the poem. I forget the ...
Kamand Kojouri
The paper landed on the table, but the news was stapled to his chest. A tattoo.
Markus Zusak
Was it animal pee or human pee? Someone asked.How would I know? What, am I an expert in the study of pee?
John Green
You were with Margo Roth Spiegelman last night? At THREE A.M.? I nodded. Alone? I nodded. Oh my God, if you hooked up with her, you have to tell me every single thing that happened. You have to write me a term paper on the look and feel of Margo Roth Spiegelman's breasts. Thrity pages, minimum! I want you to do a photo-realistic pencil drawing. A sculpture would also be acceptable. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to write a sestina about Margo Roth Spiegelman's breasts? Your six words are: pink, round, firmness, succulent, supple, and pillowy. Personally, I think at least one of the words should be buhbuhbuhbuh.
John Green
Was it animal pee or human pee? Someone asked.How would I know? What, am I an expert in the study of pee?
John Green
You were with Margo Roth Spiegelman last night? At THREE A.M.? I nodded. Alone? I nodded. Oh my God, if you hooked up with her, you have to tell me every single thing that happened. You have to write me a term paper on the look and feel of Margo Roth Spiegelman's breasts. Thrity pages, minimum! I want you to do a photo-realistic pencil drawing. A sculpture would also be acceptable. I was wondering if it would be possible for you to write a sestina about Margo Roth Spiegelman's breasts? Your six words are: pink, round, firmness, succulent, supple, and pillowy. Personally, I think at least one of the words should be buhbuhbuhbuh.
John Green
And speaking of this wonderful machine:[840] I’m puzzled by the difference between, the kind Which goes on solely in the poet’s mind,A testing of performing words, while he,The other kind, much more decorous, whenHe’s in his study writing with a pen. In method B the hand supports the thought,The abstract battle is concretely fought.The pen stops in mid-air, then swoops to bar[850] A canceled sunset or restore a star,And thus it physically guides the phraseToward faint daylight through the inky maze. is agony! The brainIs soon enclosed in a steel cap of pain.A muse in overalls directs the drill Which grinds and which no effort of the willCan interrupt, while the automatonIs taking off what he has just put on Or walking briskly to the corner store [860] To buy the paper he has read before.
Vladimir Nabokov
The internet is killing the art of writing. The big "publish" button begs you to publish even before you go back and make one single edit, and as if this was not enough, you have instant readers who praise your writing skills!-
Bangambiki Habyarimana
Muses are fickle, and many a writer, peering into the voice, has escaped paralysis by ascribing the creative responsibility to a talisman: a lucky charm, a brand of paper, but most often a writing instrument. Am I writing well? Thank my pen. Am I writing badly? Don't blame me blame my pen. By such displacements does the fearful imagination defend itself.
Anne Fadiman
My life looked good on paper - where, in fact, almost all of it was being lived.
Martin Amis
Surely it is an odd way to spend your life - sitting alone in a room with a pen in your hand, hour after hour, day after day, year after year, struggling to put words on pieces of paper in order to give birth to what does not exist, except in your head. Why on earth would anyone want to do such a thing? The only answer I have ever been able to come up with is: because you have to, because you have no choice.
Paul Auster
There is a master way with words which is not learned but is instead developed: a deaf man develops exceptional vision, a blind man exceptional hearing, a silent man, when given a piece of paper...
Criss Jami
A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child's kiss. It flutters a piece of paper. "Trash, out there? Must belong to one of us." We move closer, and when I reached for it, I find...... a perfect paper airplane.
Ellen Hopkins
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