Indian Authors Quotes

Indian Authors Quote of the day

You put cow dung on my face?’ ‘Every day religiously until you were three. Why else do you think your skin is so clear?

The time is ripe for young Indian authors writing in the English language.

A community that engages readers and culturally enabled people to connect, support and harness intellectual and cultural capabilities.

When you have power and use it for destructive purpose: you don't deserve it.

When it's possible for you to dream, it's not impossible to achieve.

Civilians enjoy their time because soldiers sacrifice their time.

Marriage is not kick-boxing, it's salsa dancing.

Cliché: "The MBA changed my life."What it really means: "A fantastic career, a great social life and a healthy bank balance...three of the things I had before I started the program.

i would rather havefeelings without wordsthan words without feelings.

i have laughedmore than daffodilsand cried more than June.

your handtouching mine.this is howgalaxiescollide.

To fall in love with someone's thoughts - the most intimate, splendid romance.

i writebecauseit is the only wayi can reach you.

Uniform of a soldier and uniform of a student both are equally needed for the nation.

the saddest thing is to bea minute to someone, when you've made them your eternity.

there are some poemsthat we leave behindsome that leave us behindwhile some just livesilentlyin the heartcrumble, sometimesdwindledisappeardieand are rebornwhen you smile again.

it was the kind of moonthat I would want to send back to my ancestorsand gift to my descendantsso they know that I too, have been bruised...by beauty.

because some thingssometimesaren't ours to hold, but just beautiful to listen to.

Not words. nor laughter. but rather someonewho will fall in lovewith your silence.

whatever you dobe gentle with yourself.you don’t just livein this worldor your homeor your skin.you also livein someone’s eyes.

You are that one breath. that puts all the remaining breaths. back into my body.

Whatever you get out of poetry - take it. take it. take it. Words are better off felt than understood.

love wounds me with soft pillows with tender lips and fingers

Once in a while i am struckall over again... by just how blue the sky appears .. on wind-played autumn mornings, blue enoughto bruise a heart.

a silent night. - the most eloquent poem i have ever read.

Poems can getsleepless tooand becomethe loneliest thingin the universe.

and the afterglow...of your gaze...is the onlysweater that I need.

I breathe in...the fragranceof love, and moist sandthe onehis roses lefton both my handsI just keep on breathingevery momentas much as I canpreserving it, in my bodyfor the dayit can’t.

Tell me..how do you stand there?filling the doorway....of my life.

Live as many lives as you can.

i want to stay curled and cosiedand chocolated....foreverin my mother’s arms.

poetrymelts my bones.enters my blood.and changesits composition.

We are the children of a womb.Yet we differentiate each other, On color, creed and the sizes of our tombs!!

When it comes to lovedo not eversettle for anythingless than magical.

a single poemthe thing that can keep melight on my feet, when my soul isheavy with sorrow.

If I began to drawmyself away from youwe’d still be liketwo mixed colors of paintimpossible to separate.

Watch, how the sunslowly risesfrom behind my earnew lines, new countriesspring up in my palmsmy rough hairbecome swaying silkand all the leavesin my bodybecome lusher than fruits.

And stay, my dearstay...forever, as my quiet song, in my lilac dawn.

leave me some musicthat’s chocolate for the heart.

I breathe in...the silenceof my own heartaching with tendernesswith memories..Of home.

I wish to stay drenchedforeverin those rain-blue eyesin those...soul-reaching crystalsnot moving a musclenor breathingjustsavoringthis turquoise acheagainst my heart.

this heart yearns...for the salt of unsmelt airunswept thunderstorms...unknown adventures.

kisses explode when... someone believes in me when my heart cries out a song of thanks to yours.

May youalways haveopenbreezy spacesin your mind.

all the wordsall the poems know my warm, soft spots.

all my lifei have looked for poemsto elope with.

i am infinitely yearningbrimmingand overflowingin wordsi discoverit’s another wayfor meto be in tears.

Push away the past, that vessel in which all emotions curdle to regret.

What you are trying to let go of...is already gone.

everything that is scatteredcomes together in wordseverything that is lostcomes back in poetry.