Quotes About Expression

It is only a moment here and a moment there that the greatest writer has.

The poet, as everyone knows, must strike his individual note sometime between the ages of fifteen and twenty-five. He may hold it a long time, or a short time, but it is then that he must strike it or never. School and college have been conducted with the almost express purpose of keeping him busy with something else till the danger of his ever creating anything is past.

Poetry is what is lost in translation.

There are tones of voices that mean more than words.

No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.

Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

Half the world is composed of people who have something to say and can't, and the other half who have nothing to say and keep on saying it.

To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.

If you want an interesting party sometime, combine cocktails and a fresh box of crayons for everyone.

What I notice is that every adult or child I give a new set of Crayolas to goes a little funny. The kids smile, get a glazed look on their faces, pour the crayons out, and just look at them for a while....The adults always get the most wonderful kind of sheepish smile on their faces--a mixture of delight and nostalgia and silliness. And they immediately start telling you about all their experiences with Crayolas.

Live a balanced life - learn some and think some and draw some and paint some and sing and dance and play and work everyday some.

Music expresses feeling and thought, without language; it was below and before speech, and it is above and beyond all words.

I would not wish to live in a world where I could not express my honest opinions. Men who deny to others the right of speech are not fit to live with honest men.

Every flower that gives its fragrance to the wandering air leaves its influence on the soul of man. The wheel and swoop of the winged creatures of the air suggest the flowing lines of subtle art. The roar and murmur of the restless sea, the cataract's solemn chant, the thunder's voice, the happy babble of the brook, the whispering leaves, the thrilling notes of mating birds, the sighing winds, taught man to pour his heart in song and gave a voice to grief and hope, to love and death.

The dead could only speak through the mouths of those left behind, and through the signs they left scattered behind them.

You are not writing properly unless someone is bleeding, probably you.

Like most writers, I tend to find out what I feel on a subject by writing about it. It is how we interpret the world, how we make sense of it.

Men looked so tragic when they cried.

Writers are different," said Waldegrave. "I've never met one who was any good who wasn't screwy.

He wondered fleetingly how many people who sat alone for hours as they scribbled their stories practiced talking about their work during their coffee breaks....

She looked away from him, drawing hard on her Rothman's; when her mouth puckered into hard little lines around the cigarette, it looked like a cat's anus.

And don't ," bellowed Robin from behind him, "buy me any more fucking flowers !" "No danger of that!" yelled Strike over his shoulder, as he strode away into the darkness.

Strike thought of his own guilty wish that Joan's slow and protracted dying would be over soon. A corpse, however unwelcome, meant anguish could find both expression and sublimation among flowers, speeches and ritual, consolation drawn from God, alcohol and fellow mourners; an apotheosis reached, a first step taken toward grasping the awful fact that life was extinct, and life must go on.