Typewriters Quotes

Quotes tagged as "typewriters" (showing 1-9 of 9)
David Sedaris
“At the end of a miserable day, instead of grieving my virtual nothing, I can always look at my loaded wastepaper basket and tell myself that if I failed, at least I took a few trees down with me.”
David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day

“I'm all in favor of keeping dangerous weapons out of the hands of fools. Let's start with typewriters.”
David Gerrold, A Matter for Men

“i heard someone tried the monkeys-on-typewriters bit trying for the plays of W. Shakespeare, but all they got was the collected works of Francis Bacon.”
Bill Hirst

James M. Cain
“A lot of novelists start late—Conrad, Pirandello, even Mark Twain. When you're young, chess is all right, and music and poetry. But novel-writing is something else. It has to be learned, but it can't be taught. This bunkum and stinkum of college creative writing courses! The academics don't know that the only thing you can do for someone who wants to write is to buy him a typewriter.”
James M. Cain

Margaret Atwood
“How strange to remember typewriters, with their jammed keys and snarled ribbons and the smudgy carbon paper for copies.”
Margaret Atwood, Stone Mattress: Nine Tales

David Mitchell
“For most digital-age writers, writing is rewriting. We grope, cut, block, paste, and twitch, panning for gold onscreen by deleting bucketloads of crap. Our analog ancestors had to polish every line mentally before hammering it out mechanically. Rewrites cost them months, meters of ink ribbon, and pints of Tippex. Poor sods.”
David Mitchell, The Bone Clocks

Suzanne Rindell
“The typewriter is indeed my passport into a world otherwise barred to me and my kind.”
Suzanne Rindell, The Other Typist

Michelle Cuevas
“Found in trees. Sometimes also in old silent movie theaters, seaside zoos, magic shops, hat shops, time-travel shops, topiary gardents, cowboy boots, castle turrets, comet museums, dog pounds, mermaid ponds, dragon lairs, library stacks (the ones in the back), piles of leaves, piles of pancakes, the belly of a fiddle, the bell of a flower, or in the company of wild herds of typewriters.
But mostly in trees.”
Michelle Cuevas, Confessions of an Imaginary Friend