René > René's Quotes

Showing 1-10 of 10
sort by

  • #1
    Oscar Wilde
    “I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.”
    Oscar Wilde, The Happy Prince and Other Stories

  • #2
    Ernest Hemingway
    “For a poet he threw a very accurate milk bottle.”
    Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast
    tags: wit

  • #3
    Émile Zola
    “From the moment I start a new novel, life’s just one endless torture. The first few chapters may go fairly well and I may feel there’s still a chance to prove my worth, but that feeling soon disappears and every day I feel less and less satisfied. I begin to say the book’s no good, far inferior to my earlier ones, until I’ve wrung torture out of every page, every sentence, every word, and the very commas begin to look excruciatingly ugly. Then, when it’s finished, what a relief! Not the blissful delight of the gentleman who goes into ecstasies over his own production, but the resentful relief of a porter dropping a burden that’s nearly broken his back . . . Then it starts all over again, and it’ll go on starting all over again till it grinds the life out of me, and I shall end my days furious with myself for lacking talent, for not leaving behind a more finished work, a bigger pile of books, and lie on my death-bed filled with awful doubts about the task I’ve done, wondering whether it was as it ought to have been, whether I ought not to have done this or that, expressing my last dying breath the wish that I might do it all over again!”
    Émile Zola, The Masterpiece

  • #4
    Jeffrey Eugenides
    “Emotions, in my experience, aren't covered by single words. I don't believe in "sadness," "joy," or "regret." Maybe the best proof that the language is patriarchal is that it oversimplifies feeling. I'd like to have at my disposal complicated hybrid emotions, Germanic train-car constructions like, say, "the happiness that attends disaster." Or: "the disappointment of sleeping with one's fantasy." I'd like to show how "intimations of mortality brought on by aging family members" connects with "the hatred of mirrors that begins in middle age." I'd like to have a word for "the sadness inspired by failing restaurants" as well as for "the excitement of getting a room with a minibar." I've never had the right words to describe my life, and now that I've entered my story, I need them more than ever. ”
    Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex

  • #5
    Madeleine L'Engle
    “You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.”
    Madeleine L'Engle

  • #6
    Henry David Thoreau
    “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things..”
    Henry David Thoreau, Civil Disobedience and Other Essays

  • #7
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible”
    Vladimir Nabokov

  • #8
    Thomas Pynchon
    “Life's single lesson: that there is more accident to it than a man can ever admit to in a lifetime and stay sane.”
    Thomas Pynchon, V.

  • #9
    Rainer Maria Rilke
    “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
    Rainer Maria Rilke

  • #10
    Anaïs Nin
    “We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations.”
    Anais Nin



Rss