Thursday, December 26, 2013

Some Quotes to End the Year

In her book, Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott describes how she handled the  rejection of her novel. 'Luckily, I was still drinking at the time. I went to the house where I was staying, slammed down a dozen social drinks with them and then took a cab to meet other friends. I had a few hundred more drinks with them, and the merest bit of cocaine--actually I began to resemble an anteater at one point. Then I went to a liquor store and got a half pint of Irish whiskey and went back to the house where I was staying and had little slugs of Bushmills straight from the bottle until I passed out. I was a little depressed when I woke up..."

"We came to know that the great tradition in art is not housed only in museums or in galleries and in great works of art; it is innate in us and can be galvanized into activity by the power of creative endeavour... " Lawren Harris, 1964

Describing an elderly woman who has been a great reader all her life. "Reading has wound in with living, each a complement to the other. Charlotte knows herself to ride upon a great sea of words, of language, of stories and situations and information, of knowledge, some of which she can summon up, much of which is half lost, but is in there somewhere, and has had an effect on who she is and how she thinks. She is as much a product of what she has read as of the way in which she she has lived; she is like a million of others built by books, for whom books are an essential foodstuff, who would starve without." Penelope Lively from the novel How It All Began.

"The best time for planning a book is when you are doing the dishes." Agatha Christie

"No passion in the world is equal to the passion to alter someone else's draft." H. G. Wells.

"I've always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library." Jorge  Luis Borges

One day the Nouns were clustered in the street,
An Adjective walked by, with her dark beauty,
The Nouns were struck, moved, changed,
The next day a Verb drove up, and created the Sentence.
from the poem "Permanently," by Keith Koch.

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