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Indie Author Quotes

Browse 85 quotes about Indie Author.

Indie Author Quotes

“I didn't come looking for you the day you uninvitedly appeared on my doorstep How did we go from nonchalant conversation me waiting for you to turn me off with corny jokes and mind dumbing conversation to love To love and mind blowing chemistry that I've yet to make sense of What are you here to teach me?”

“I closed my eyes for a moment and focused on the sun’s warmth. It was a good day. There were many things to think about, but in this moment, I wanted to embrace my surroundings and enjoy them. Sometimes the little things were the best parts of life, and they were always there in front of us, waiting to be noticed.”

“PABLO, The reason that I love thee remains strange & blurry Do I love thee for thy creativity? For the songs thou has written so carefully? Do I love thee for thy strangeness & mystery? Each layer of thy persona is a cure to my melancholy Allow me to worship thy beauty from afar My fated heartache...my unreachable star. Letters To Pablo (forever unpublished)”

“In the world where a million books are being published every year in the United States alone, every book reviewer is my hero! But even more important, every reviewer shapes the culture’s narrative. Reviewers get to decide what’s important. It’s not just the bad reviews — I hated those socks! — the good reviews have as much weight, if not more. Reviewers get to pick what’s the next IT thing! That’s power. …use it wisely…”

“Ante la muerte no hay nada que podamos hacer, es algo que está fuera de nuestro alcance. Mientras seguimos vivos lo único que podemos hacer es vivir.”

“El reproche y la culpa solo sirven para aprisionarnos y para no dejarnos avanzar.”

“There was balance, harsh and violent like the noxious air in a swamp. But balance, nonetheless. Then somewhere in the fickle mists of creation came humanity, clawing and afraid, grasping and ambitious. Enveloped in a dangerous world, these creatures lived as scavengers; afraid of the greater things of the world. They were beset by disease, lack of claws or fangs, and the lack of habitat to call their own. Lefeyhdie had not provided any particular prey or plant for them to eat. These fleshy, naked beings were doomed to die of attrition. Curiously, these beings never stopped Doing, or Thinking. Breeding to strengthen their numbers. Sharpening rocks, shaping wood, gathering leaves and sticks for clothing and shelter. Eventually they had settlements of great number, crude but effective tools of war. Ancient forces began to pay attention to the growing incursion, plaguing them, slaying stragglers at night. But still the humans held on to the edge of the precipice, knuckles white with effort'.”

“Bah, he still saw the same stupidity. The image of the hanged man in the farming community of Yondern flashed through his mind. Now there was a war brewing between the Steelwielders and some foreign religion. More mindless loss over beliefs and mythology. But.. he could not deny the noble features in his companions. Although Perfidian was too blithe and Elaina too didactic, they had risked their life to do what was right. He did owe them his life. He could not deny the nobility he saw in many different people, bits and pieces of nobility that shined through under pressure. The guards who risked their lives to protect the villagers, Markham who flew at the dangerous dwarf, swords flashing; even an Eruthian merchant who stopped in his journey to share tales with complete strangers'.”

“Ideas Surpass Gold (Sonnet 1530) Most of my boldest ideas are available online without paywall. Which means, you don't need to pay, to integrate my ideas into your life. Since I don't have an industry behind, it does help when you make a purchase. But I never ask no one to buy my books, I'd rather starve than monetize oneness. Soon this body will surpass corporeal chains, monetary demands of living will collapse a lie. I mustn't stain my sacred life craving coins, Ideas must surpass gold to surpass time.”

“Antanas eased up on the accelerator and pulled the truck onto the shoulder. The sound of the soldiers' footsteps crunching in the snow made Maria sit up straight. The truck had driven about thirty metres past the patrol, but none of the soldiers had fired upon them. Antanas hoped fervently that the transport documents that Peter had furnished him would pass inspection. Maria reached down and touched a metal pipe concealed beneath her seat. She was prepared to use it. Jadwyga continued to pray quietly. "Mother Mary, spare me, Maria, and the other women from rape, and Antanas from death." As a sergeant approached the truck, Jadwyga's stomach cramped, sweat broke out on her forehead, and her arms began to shake. Then she fainted. Maria propped Jadwyga up to make it look as though she was sleeping, and then smiled at the sergeant who was rapping on the glass. Antanas rolled down his window.”

“fade in / fade out that's all you can do when you're heart's without fade in / fade out when you're not whole, you fight to keep Light out fade in / fade out the control of it all will just wear you out fade in / fade out the dark veil is rad until the SPECTRUM shout! -from the poem 'energy flips.”

“At that moment, I knew what my next step needed to be. I admitted that I was indeed not well. Not physically, not emotionally, not mentally. I needed to find my way. I could not continue living in that spiral of darkness. I had already hit rock bottom. Now there was only one way left to go—up!”

“Carlo Levare (ok, a little weird writing in 3rd person) writes books because talking to himself in public is “frowned upon.” Indie author, professional overthinker, and part‑time philosopher of grocery store checkout lines. Powered by dark humor, lukewarm coffee, and the belief that every life crisis deserves at least one punchline. When he’s not revising sentences that were perfectly fine the first twelve times, he’s wandering Colorado pretending it’s “research.” Known for turning everyday disasters into literary therapy and insisting that deadlines are merely “suggestions with attitude.” Carlo’s stories blend heart, grit, and the kind of honesty that makes relatives shift uncomfortably at holidays. His readers laugh, cry, and occasionally text him “are you okay,” which he considers a rave review.”

“...I don’t know why you’re sulking, I wasn’t going to give up my holiday to sit and nurse you from a break-up with a guy I told you not to deal with…He was your Gynaecologist for crying out loud. You don’t mix business with pleasure, and not with a man who knows more about your insides than you.”

“A dark Southern Gothic tale of forbidden desire and supernatural vengeance. Within the cursed halls of Chesterson Manor, love turns deadly, and ghosts of the past hunger for redemption.”