Quotes About Expression

But what would happen is that the world would catch up with and try to sicken you. If you did not write every day, the poisons would accumulate and you would begin to die, or act crazy, or both. You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.

I love to write. It's all I do.

Teachers say if you write a story you must never name what you're trying to write. Just do it. When it's over you'll know what you've done.

Se da cuenta ahora porqué los libros son odiados y temidos? Muestran los poros del rostro de la vida

I had no way to stop . I did not write Fahrenheit 451, it wrote me.

I'm a California boy. I don't tell anyone how to write and no one tells me. (Paris Review Interview)

Si os dan papel pautado, escribid por el otro lado. JUAN RAMÓN JIMÉNEZ

Because the Muse persists.

The good writers touch life often.

A man had to think them up. A man had to take a long time to put them down on paper. And I'd never even thought that thought before.

Everyone must leave something behind when he dies...A child or a book or a painting or a...garden planted. Something your hand touched some way so your soul has somewhere to go when you die, and when people look at that tree or that flower you planted, you're there... The difference between the man who cuts lawns and a real gardener is in the touching..

Each of the men I have listed seized a bit of the quicksilver of life, froze it for all time and turned, in the blaze of their creativity, to point at it and cry, Isn't this good! And it was good.

In most cases I don't even know the metaphors lay waiting to be printed off my retina.

Writing keeps death at bay. Every book I write is a triumph over death. ... If we did not know we'd die, we'd wander around and sleep like cats.

The man just opened his mouth, which meant that all kinds of secret doors in his body gave way. He did not sing so much as let his soul free.

I am a passionate, not an intellectual writer, which means my characters must plunge ahead of me to live the story

In sum, do not insult me with the beheadings, finger-choppings, or the lung-deflations you plan for my works. I need my head to shake or nod, my hand to wave or make into a fist, my lungs to shout or whisper with. I will not go gently onto a shelf, degutted, to become a non-book.

He had seen her painted sign by the road: Skin Illustration! Illustration instead of tattoo! Artistic!

I think of her hands but I don't see them doing anything at all. They just hang there at her sides or they lay there on her lap or there's a cigarette in them, but that's all.

When a man talks from the heart, in his moment of truth, he speaks poetry.

The good writers touch life often. The mediocre ones run a quick hand over her.

How long has it been since you wrote a story where your real love or real hatred somehow got onto the paper? When was the last time you dared release a cherished prejudice so it slammed the page like a lightning bolt? What are the best things and the worst things in your life, and when are you going to get around to whispering or shouting them?

Thomas Wolfe ate the world and vomited lava. Dickens dined at a different table every hour of his life. Molière, tasting society, turned to pick up his scalpel, as did Pope and Shaw.

Colored people don't like the book Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don't feel good about Uncle Tom's Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag. Peace, Montag. Take your fight outside. Better yet, into the incinerator (p. 59).