Quotes About Expression

will provide." She cleared her throat.

Every first draft is perfect because all the first draft has to do is exist.

He laughed with a kind of mirthless bark.

but no matter how receptive his pretty and sweet speech therapist looked, no matter how softly and encouragingly she said, "Go ahead, try it. Say it," still, the sounds came out like mooing.

Art is a kind of mining, he said. The artist a variety of prospector searching for the sparkling silver of meaning in the earth.

Get drunk, Austin, have a love affair. It would be a tragedy to die and discover that you hadn't completely used up your body.

Any work of art, said her grandfather,must achieve sainthood before we set it free to roam in the world.

I personally believe we developed language because of our deep inner need to complain.

Language helps develp life as surely as it reflects life. It is a most important part of our human condition.

Like the piano player, I have memory in my fingertips. I watch words spill out creating worlds, inventing colors, bridging generations.

I have pulled threads from magic tapestries already woven and used them to weave my own cloth.

We write not just to show off, not just to tell, or only to have written. We write to know ourselves.

Love the writing, love the writing, love the writing... the rest will follow.

The only duty of the dreamer is to tell the truth about the dream.

The priestess gave the line of girls a smile, but there was no warmth in that smile, only a formal lifting of the lips.

Write, write, & write some more. Think of writing as a muscle that needs lots of exercise.

Words shouldn't be dirty or clean But definitely sweet, On the tongue, in the mind.

The Baba gives me paper, and a pen that sputters ink. Write, she says, tell the true Though you may have to lie to do it.

I learned to write poetry, telling the truth through metaphor, simile, straight-forward lies.

You want to tell this story, perhaps now you will.

Hans was never good at giving proper answers. He always had different answers in his head, odd answers, answers that his teachers and his parents and his grandmother and even his crazy grandfather seemed to think were wrong. But they weren't wrong answers, they were just his answers. He wondered suddenly what the Ice Maiden would do if he gave her a wrong answer. And, thinking this, he found he couldn't open his mouth at all.

I tell the truth,' she said. 'But I tell it slant.

I rolled my eyes so far into the top of my head I almost fell over backward.

My Spanish is limited to burrito and taco