Vera Nazarian Quotes

We often engage the defense mechanism of tunnel vision, just to keep ourselves focused on our daily lives. This makes us terribly jaded in our perception of what is really around us.

I'll tell you a secret. Old storytellers never die. They disappear into their own story.

The desert is an ideal illusion of a blank slate - so much mystery in endless layers is hidden underneath its bright, pseudo-sterile surface.

And it is a quiet terrible thing, too, to discover the value of love this way [after loss] - when the object of love is no longer there, when love dies or goes away or changes. When it is too late.

Because without such a reprieve we cannot pause and regroup and with the newfound strength go on to initiate that very change which is sorely needed by all.

Love - not dim and blind but so far-seeing that it can glimpse around corners, around bends and twists and illusion; instead of overlooking faults love sees through them to the secret inside.

In the desert, the only god is a well.

One sin seldom mentioned is that of killing time.

Freedom is not a license to act but a license to exercise free choices in any given situation.

In the plains the grass grows tall, since there is no one to cut it. There is no one to water it either.

Money is like fire. It is only good when there's just the right amount of it, when it's properly contained and under your control.

Why does every road eventually narrow into a point at the horizon? Because that's where the point lies.

There is only Love -- and Stories. All else is but a shadow dream.

A tornado of thought is unleashed after each new insight. This in turn results in an earthquake of assumptions. These are natural disasters that re-shape the spirit.

Desire is like fog on a bathroom mirror -- its presence incites you to wipe the mirror, and see yourself clearly again.

Respect the young and chastise your elders. It's about time the world was set aright.

I've just been bitten on the neck by a vampire... mosquito. Does that mean that when the night comes I will rise and be annoying?

What is blood but the wine of life?

To every rule there is an exception—and an idiot ready to demonstrate it. Don't be the one!

Short stories are like individual jewel stones on a necklace, wonderful in themselves like standalone gleaming entities of semantic intensity.

I am happy. I have something to accomplish, create, and achieve. I am happy.

For as long as there's anyone to ask 'Why?' the answer will always be, 'Why not?

Q: Why do I love thee, O Night? A: Because you know I will never answer.

I am sure that inspiration will strike multiple times - it always does.

I think I became [writer] despite myself - tricking myself into it, really.

I sat down and wrote a short story in two weeks and submitted it to Marion Zimmer Bradley. And Marion bought "Wound On The Moon" .My first sale and my first pro sale rolled into one.

Here is where I like to burst in as a writer, to take one strong sensory detail or image and instead of enhancing it or directing attention to it by shouting about it, I simply take it away.

True balm [of fantasy] takes away the painful irritation of life and simply heals, allowing one to begin anew. And that is what fantasy can do for us.

A related recurring theme is the exploration of how we take for granted the things in our immediate environment that are common and ordinary. Existential blindness, of sorts.

One of the things that I've noticed over the years is that I seem to be fascinated as a writer with the notion that we already have all that we need.

The desert is a place of bones, where the innards are turned out, to desiccate into dust.

Close your eyes and turn your face into the wind. Feel it sweep along your skin in an invisible ocean of exultation. Suddenly, you know you are alive.

Karma has been a pop culture term for ages. But really, what the heck is it?

Here's a new 'Blessing' for our time -- 'May Anderson Cooper never be sent to report on your town!

I started to write. And I wrote and wrote all through high school.

A made-up proverb from Dreams of the Compass Rose says, "In the desert, the only god is a well." I love exploring the intensity of such juxtaposition, the dangerous edge.

My brand of fantasy is completely devoid of the traditional notions of magic as ritual. Instead I see the fantastic as a meta-layer of existence beyond the real world.

I love to fool my readers, but in a good way. If you've read any of my work, there's a good chance that at some point I surprised you.

Our world is so bursting-full of natural wonder that we are all experiencing a sensory overload. We are no longer perceiving all of Ú the details, just the ones that immediately interest us.

We don't need fantasy to mess with our minds to the point of rendering us insane - real life horrors do that already.

However I will never forget what Marion [Zimmer Bradley] did for me by accepting that first story from a stupid enthusiastic kid.

The act of sharing with readers was at first too much of an intimate thing. But it evolved into an intense necessity to share.

I was forgetting that an artist also just stares at a piece of paper or canvas all day. It somehow never occurred to me to connect these two diverse creative modes.

Seems to me that there is no better way to experience the depth of loss than after the fact. No more powerful instrument of imbuing value in an object than parting with it.

Everything I write now might have roots in myths, often disguised,often dissolved into new multi-ethnic myths of my own making.

I am a novelist at heart.

I technically live in the desert - Los Angeles being an artificial oasis - but my interest stems even farther to my own ethnic roots and to my love of antiquity, of the Old World and of the east.

Fantasy is not the literature of subversion of the status quo but of 'awakening to' the status quo.

Fantasy plunders the well of our deepest selves for existent truth instead of creating new truths out of the illusory fabric of recent events or the flow of society.

Most of us have nicknames—annoying, endearing, embarrassing.But what about your true name? to respond when called.Ever wonder why?.