On Fiction Quotes
It was as if - this something I thought of only later, of course - she were gently peeling back one layer after another that covered a person's heart, a very sensual feeling.
How is it possible you have caught me off guard, he seemed to ask. Exactly where have I miscalculated the velocities, how have I misjudged the vectors?
... instead of spelling stories you spread silence, which was outside the alphabet.
I didn't know then that the mind, like the earth, has several layers: a crust, a mantle, a boiling core.
We awoke to a fabulation of ice, the sun shining like a weapon, light rocketing off every surface except the surfaces of the Army's clean streets and walks.
Hate was the blazing beauty that consumed the world in its flames. Love could never consume anything but the heart of a fool.
Every minute I decide not to kill you is a minute your life is saved. You owe me everything.
Poetry is a tool for writers to create literature in different forms of expression and messages.
I'd always had a guilty preference for fiction. Since I seemed now to be living fiction, this proved to have been an entirely reasonable choice.
...to use the little kick of energy which opposition supplies to be more vigorously oneself.
Almost all heroism is designed to make you inert by placing it in a context that you can't possibly act on.
How scary and sudden the shift from Living to Dead.
To write your dreams of fantasy, is to create fantasy in another's dreams
A fiction writer is nothing more than the ambassador of an alternative world of their own design. Their success dwells in how many people their work entices to relocate
It was the love which the hunter has for living things, and which he can only express by aiming his gun at them ...
NOTHING IS GREATER THAN ITS SOURCE
It was dark, so I couldn't make out much of her face, but she had brilliant red hair, like honey and roses and the sun altogether.
As every reader knows in his or her heart, there is much more to truth than mere fact.
I want art that makes the world seem more unreal. I want fiction that can crumble the world and build it back into something new.
We invent fictions in order to live somehow the many lives we would like to lead when we barely have one at our disposal.
There's no such thing as fiction", Annie told him once. "If you can imagine something, then it's happened.
My life is in these books, he wants to tell her. Read these and know my heart.
I have always been fascinated by the ocean, to dip a limb beneath its surface and know that I'm touching eternity, that it goes on forever until it begins here again.
Living is worth the effort if only because without life we could not read or imagine stories.
Because of literature we can decipher, at least partially, the hieroglyphic that existence tends to be for the great majority of human beings.
The Adventure called and I followed with my thumb like a character being written by an intractable author. Which, of course, I was.
Philippe to his mother "do stop chasing after a carriage that has a runaway mare.
The times have changed and now the story is old, but yet it all remains the same, a victim in the cold.
Laughter comes from living." I shrug, try to sound indifferent. "I've never really been alive before.
On the misty window of her room, she let her finger trace a broken line. She was that line.
His smile is beautiful. It's the kind of smile that can take away all nervousness and tension in a room, no matter how big. I have no choice but to smile back.
For me, stories are like WD-40 for the brain: they keep all the wheels and gears and clicky-things running smoothly. Without them, cognitive function becomes a bore.
…progress isn't necessarily about change but about things turning out as we want them to
When you least expect it, you run in to an old friend from school, or the neighbour’s cat, not Mary the Virgin Mother of God.
Why did you leave? Am I not good enough? Where did you go? When did it happen? ..Who are you?
I wasn't writing home. I wasn't writing a death letter, either. I was writing a death journal, a piece of fiction meant for my family and my fiancee, Sara.
It's just like an alcoholic to think he's doing the Zombie Apocalypse wrong.
It must have really not liked me, but I can't imagine why, don't say anything Amelia."Amelia shrugged her shoulders, "It liked me the first time."Otto smirked, "Well I have no idea why.
I can be a woman on a mission. But I'll choose what mission that is. And that my friend is where youll see the results.
As I pen these words to leave a lasting record, I wonder myself where it all began.
All the clues are there in front of us, hidden under a veil, we cannot get the clue by searching for, we have to search for the veil instead.
To give herself a measure of credible autonomy, she had decided to invent a husband. Then, in a subsequent flash of inspiration, she had just as quickly killed him off.
If everything comes in your way just the way you wanted them to, then you're probably in the wrong lane.