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Pages Quote of the day
We are living out the drama of a pathetic story whose pages are smeared with our own handwriting.
In any of my pages in any of my books may life a perfect account of my secret experience of the world.
I'm an open book. But some of the pages are stuck together.
Working with the morning pages, we begin to sort through the differences between our real feelings, which are often secret, and our official feelings, those on the record for public display.
Life's a book filled on pages Just awaiting to be written.Some don't open it for ages, Maybe afraid of being bitten.
For if we're destroyed, the knowledge is dead...We're nothing more than dust jackets for books...so many pages to a person...
But it has often happened that I have found the most seductive depictions of sin in the pages of those very men of incorruptible virtue who condemned their spell and their effects.
Know that blank pages feel the urge of the ink as much as tears paint a different pain, changes
When left alone with her, I ignored her and kept my eyes on my book, though I confess I turned over more pages than I read.
...the answer is not in the damn blank page - it's in the days or years before and you have to dredge it up - exhume the past again ...
Words come alive from a page or script because both the writer and actor were brave enough to neither deny or invent their truth
Inconveniently, books are all the pages in them, not just the ones you choose to read.
Like a forgotten old photograph, this dream will stay pressed, between the pages of a book you don’t feel like reading anymore.
Time will tell, I suppose, or at least, these pages will.
Pages entertain me more than pictures do.
I write for pages, get lost in the mezzaninehidden from stages.
Action is the ink that writes what you think on the pages of life!
Are we not all books waiting for someone to pick us up and read the pages that people missed?
She might not have read many books. But when she reads a book, she swallows the very words. If you open the books on her shelves, you will find that the front and back covers encase white pages.
Once you can write an alphabet, you can write a book of 100 million pages. It's just a matter of believing it as possible, and taking the cross millimetre by millimetre.
I'm the cover of a book, Whose pages are still being written
Like Desserts, books come in all kinds of tasty treats!
Every face, every shop, bedroom window, public-house, and dark square is a picture feverishly turned--in search of what? It is the same with books. What do we seek through millions of pages?
Timid young artists, adding parental fears to their own, often give up their sunny dreams of artistic careers, settling into the twilight world of could-have-beens and regrets.
Every story needs some sort of secret that impels it forward. Otherwise why would the reader bother to keep on turning the pages?
The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible
The thing about being a screenwriter, scriptwriter, or scenarist, You get to have multiple personalities and not be charged!
Wherever you see an empty life, or an empty page or an empty mind, add something good to it!
The pages and the words are my world, spread out before your eyes and for your hand to touch. Vaguely, I can see you face looking down into me, as I look back. Do you see my eyes?
Loosers want it but only through the easy way. If action taking were like reading a story book, loosers would only love to open the picture pages
A blank page is no empty space. It is brimming with potential... It is a masterpiece in waiting -- yours.
IN the book of my heart, pages keep falling out, many of them marked "Mom and Dad.
Stella scribbledin thick black textaacross half the pagesof my best storybook, filled with people who venturedwhere their hearts took them.Beautiful worlds beyond mine.
love was never meant to bejust a metaphorbetween the pages of poetry.
On plenty of days the writer can write three or four pages, and on plenty of other days he concludes he must throw them away.
Names sound nice because no one peeks behind the cover to see the sad face of a poem crying for meaning, while the name of the creator proudly smiles from the title.