Quotes About Expression

He's a writer," she said, as though this explained everything. "He's disappeared before?" "He's emotional," she said, her expression glum. "He's always going off on one, but it's been ten days and I know he's really upset but I need him home now.

blood was thumping in her ears: the sensation of not being heard was becoming increasingly common during these interactions)

shoveling food into his mouth. Thoughts came fluently, cogently:

Oh," said Tansy. The monosyllable contained equal parts of surprise and disdain.

when her mouth puckered into hard little lines around the cigarette, it looked like a cat's anus.

she was on the telephone, wearing that expression of disinterested attentiveness that betokens a person on hold.

Yang bikin kelpek-klepek adalah lagak pujangga-teraniaya itu, omong kosong luka-batin, gaya genius-yang-tersiksa itu. …

Tis a strange mystery, the power of words! Life is in them, and death. A word can send The crimson colour hurrying to the cheek, Hurrying with many meanings, or can turn The current cold and deadly to the heart.

Demam macam apakah ini, kenapa orang ingin sekali unjuk diri dalam bentuk tertulis?

So Ledwell doesn't like our game because 'the game's really more of a metaphor'. We literally based it on your own rules, u pretentious cow.

You lost a good friend and a wife within—what—months of each other?" "A few months, yes." "You were writing all through that time?" "Yes," said Fancourt, with an angry, condescending laugh, "I was writing all through that time. It's my profession. Would anyone ask you whether you were still in the army while you were having private difficulties?

The corners of his mouth twitched, but as Robin didn't see him smiling, he felt no compulsion to explain.

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

Strike was becoming steadily more taciturn, his expression brooding. Robin wondered whether this was because he was hungry—he was a man who needed regular sustenance to maintain an equable mood—or for some darker reason.

Speak so that I can understand you.

Well, it's true, isn't it?" said Douthwaite, displaying unvarnished anger for the first time. "And I'm allowed to tell the truth about my own bloody life, aren't I?

Rubenfeld spoke no Hebrew. His mind was racing to come up with something—anything—that these wild-eyed dirt farmers would understand. He threw his arms in the air and yelled the only Yiddish words he could think of. "Gefilte fish! Gefilte fish! Shabbes! Shabbes!

There's no money in poetry, but then there's no poetry in money, either.

If there's no money in poetry, neither is there poetry in money.

There is no money in poetry, but then there is no poetry in money either.

But the human tongue is a beast that few can master. It strains constantly to break out of its cage, and if it is not tamed, it will tun wild and cause you grief.

On this subject it is striking to note how many individuals pursue, outside of their own professions and with a kind of rebellious delight, hobbies that are no more than personalized forms of work. This suggests that one of the hidden desires of humanity, provoked by the inward clamor of unused potentialities, is the dream of work in freedom.

Indeed, there are two times for most important statements or accusations: the expressive time, when we feel inwardly impelled to say or do them, and the impressive time, when they would be most helpful to their recipients. It is only in very mature and rightly beloved people that these two times regularly coincide.

Laughable error and profound discovery are born of the same freedom.