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Quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Ralph Waldo Emerson
Ralph Waldo Emerson

American essayist, poet, and philosopher. Born on May 25, 1803, and died on April 27, 1882. Known for his transcendentalist philosophy, his works have had a profound impact on literature and the intellectual world. more

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“Literature supplements the lives of people and enables us to feel connected with the world. Shared stories blunt a sense of tragic aloneness, and endow us with the tools to understand our humanness. Reading about the lives of other people acquaints us with the hardships of other people. The authorial voices of narrative prose express our shared feelings of deprivation”

StoriesLiteratureBooksMemoirStorytellingReading BooksAutobiographyBiographiesLiterature QuotesNarrative WritingWriting VoiceBiographicalReading QuoteAuthorial Viewpoint
Book:Dead Toad Scrolls
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“Slutim da i ako se dogodi aberacija procesa potpune spoznaje, ako dođe do urušavanja saveza mene i svega, i neka ispriječi sve mi odlazak dok pokušavam otići pristojno van - sve će ipak zastati na dobrom, a ja ću nestati; počinjem to nazirati, osjećati, čak slutjeti kao neučinjene pokrete lasnoga plesa onoga svega što je odvajkada mrtvo, a ja sam jednom i sanjao baš o tomu.” “Govorite mi, nemojte šutjeti, o čemu ste sanjali...?” “O smrti koja poja u vječnosti ništavila, o bezbrojnim generacijama bića koji razgovaraju sami sa sobom nemajući mogućnost obratiti se onima prije sebe, a jedan za drugim odlaze u grob; sanjao sam i dokidanje toga, kao jednom, nekad, zbilo se da je svjesna pojava osvojila i smrt, pa se dogodilo u kutku svekolikosti da je netko ovladao rađanjem i smrću, te je mogao birati kad će se roditi, gdje, kako, gdje će umrijeti i hoće li uopće kusati smrti... Tada je došlo redefiniranje.” “Biti mrtav prestalo je značiti biti mrtav?” “Biti mrtav je postalo jednako životu, a sve što živi je shvaćeno kao pokret smrti, upravo revolt smrti, a simfonija koja nikada nije počela, koja nikada se, izgleda, neće utišati, pokrivena veom tišine, polako se otkrila i postala čujna (a ona je sve vrijeme svirala!...), čak i groznim pojavama kakva sam ja. Veoma, zapravo... grandiozno.”

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Book:Veliki pad
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“Oh, I’m sorry!” he said. “I just fell out of the sky. I constructed a helicopter in midair, burst into flames halfway down, crash-landed and barely survived. But by all means – let’s talk about your dining table!” He snatched up a half-melted goblet. “Who puts a dining table on the beach where innocent demigods can crash into it? Who does that?” The girl clenched her fists. Leo was pretty sure she was going to march down the crater and punch him in the face. Instead she looked up at the sky. “REALLY?” she screamed at the empty blue. “You want to make my curse even worse? Zeus! Hephaestus! Hermes! Have you no shame?” “Uh …” Leo noticed that she’d just picked three gods to blame, and one of them was his dad. He figured that wasn’t a good sign. “I doubt they’re listening. You know, the whole split-personality thing—” “Show yourself!” the girl yelled at the sky, completely ignoring Leo. “It’s not bad enough I am exiled? It’s not bad enough you take away the few good heroes I’m allowed to meet? You think it’s funny to send me this—this charbroiled runt of a boy to ruin my tranquillity? This is NOT FUNNY! Take him back!” “Hey, Sunshine,” Leo said. “I’m right here, you know.” She growled like a cornered animal. “Do not call me Sunshine! Get out of that hole and come with me now so I can get you off my island!” “Well, since you asked so nicely …” Leo didn’t know what the crazy girl was so worked up about, but he didn’t really care. If she could help him leave this island, that was totally fine by him. He clutched his charred sphere and climbed out of the crater. When he reached the top, the girl was already marching down the shoreline. He jogged to catch up. She gestured in disgust at the burning wreckage. “This was a pristine beach! Look at it now.” “Yeah, my bad,” Leo muttered. “I should’ve crashed on one of the other islands. Oh, wait – there aren’t any!” She snarled and kept walking along the edge of the water.”

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Book:The House of Hades
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“Writing is not like painting where you add. It is not what you put on the canvas that the reader sees. Writing is more like a sculpture where you remove, you eliminate in order to make the work visible. Even those pages you remove somehow remain. There is a difference between a book of two hundred pages which is the result of an original eight hundred pages. The six hundred pages are there. Only you don't see them.”

WritingEditingWriting ProcessFat Novel
Author:Elie Wiesel
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