Jayme > Jayme's Quotes

“I have always looked upon decay as being just as wonderful and rich an expression of life as growth.”
― Henry Miller

“If wild my breast and sore my pride,
I bask in dreams of suicide,
If cool my heart and high my head
I think 'How lucky are the dead.”
― Dorothy Parker, The Complete Poems of Dorothy Parker

“Now I know how Joan of Arc felt.”
― Morrissey

“Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.”
― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

“A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”
― Thomas Mann, Essays of Three Decades

“You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.”
― Jack London

“Cut out all these exclamation points. An exclamation point is like laughing at your own joke.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald

“The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.”
― Anais Nin

“All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”
― Ernest Hemingway

“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”
― E.L. Doctorow

“A little talent is a good thing to have if you want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every scar.”
― Stephen King

“Writing is a way of talking without being interrupted.”
― Jules Renard

“I hate writing, I love having written.”
― Dorothy Parker

“Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open.”
― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft

“the writing of some
men
is like a vast bridge
that carries you
over
the many things
that claw and tear.

The Wine of Forever”
― Charles Bukowski, Love Is a Dog from Hell

“A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

“Language is my whore, my mistress, my wife, my pen-friend, my check-out girl. Language is a complimentary moist lemon-scented cleansing square or handy freshen-up wipette. Language is the breath of God, the dew on a fresh apple, it's the soft rain of dust that falls into a shaft of morning sun when you pull from an old bookshelf a forgotten volume of erotic diaries; language is the faint scent of urine on a pair of boxer shorts, it's a half-remembered childhood birthday party, a creak on the stair, a spluttering match held to a frosted pane, the warm wet, trusting touch of a leaking nappy, the hulk of a charred Panzer, the underside of a granite boulder, the first downy growth on the upper lip of a Mediterranean girl, cobwebs long since overrun by an old Wellington boot.”
― Stephen Fry

“Some editors are failed writers, but so are most writers.”
― T.S. Eliot