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Quote by Christine Stobbe

“I am a writer. I live a thousand different lives in a thousand different places, in a galaxy of black and white words. Lend me your imagination, reader, and let me show you new places, new people, and fantastic worlds, in all the myriad colors of your mind.”

Quote by Christine Stobbe

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Christine Stobbe

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“That I isn't I anymore. It's someone else, the character who plays me, someone who's a better actor than I could ever be. I'm just the writer. Someone else is starring in my part. I remember him just well enough to try to write about him. A case of the negative sublime. I guess art's always after the fact. The real is imaginary, or imagined. Reconstitution, reconstruction, representation is all we're left with. Autobiography becomes biography in the end.”

WritingImaginationAutobiographyWriting ProcessBiographyArtistry
Author:Charles Wright
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“I might have added, as it entered my mind to do, that some people found satisfaction in being. Being. Others in becoming. Being people have all the breaks. Becoming people are very unlucky, always in a tizzy. The Becoming people are always have to make explanations or offer justifications of the Being people. While the Being people provoke these explanations.”

PhilosophySpiritHumanityChangePersonality
Book:Henderson the Rain King
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“I gave her as much as I had, but it's like the difference between a movie and a book: A book lets you choose how much of the blood you want to see. A book gives you the permission to see the story as you want, as your mind directs. You interpret. Your Alexander Portnoy doesn't look like mine because we all have our unique view. When you finish a movie you leave the theater with your friend and talk about the movie right away. When you finish a book you think. Love grew up on movies and I have just read her a book. I give her time to digest.”

LiteratureImaginationBooksMetaphorComparisonMoviesMetaCaroline KepnesHidden Bodies
Book:Hidden Bodies
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“There was much sense in your smile: it was very shrewd, and seemed to make light of your own abstraction. It seemed to say–'My fine visions are all very well, but I must not forget they are absolutely unreal. I have a rosy sky and a green flowery Eden in my brain; but without, I am perfectly aware, lies at my feet a rough tract to travel, and around me gather black tempests to encounter.”

RealityImaginationHardshipIdealismJane Eyre
Book:Jane Eyre
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