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Pages Quotes

“The best thing about writing fiction is that moment where the story catches fire and comes to life on the page, and suddenly it all makes sense and you know what it's about and why you're doing it and what these people are saying and doing, and you get to feel like both the creator and the audience. Everything is suddenly both obvious and surprising ("but of course that's why he was doing that, and that means that...") and it's magic and wonderful and strange.”

PeopleKnowsFeelsWritingMeanMomentsStoriesCoursesFictionAudienceFireWonderfulMagicStrangePagesObviousCreatorMake SenseBest ThingsThat MomentSurprisingWriting FictionSaying And Doing
Author:Neil Gaiman
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“A bizarrerie of fires, cunabulum of light, it moved with a deft, almost dainty deliberation, phasing into and out of existence like a storm-shot piece of evening; or perhaps the darkness between the flares was more akin to its truest nature swirl of black ashes assembled in prancing cadence to the lowing note of desert wind down the arroyo behind buildings as empty yet filled as the pages of unread books or stillnesses between the notes of a song.”

BookLightSongBlackBehindsExistenceDarknessFirePiecesBuildingWindPagesShotsEmptyMovedFilledNotesStormEveningDesertStillnessAshesTruestDeliberationCadenceFlareSwirlsDaintyUnread BooksPrancing
Book:Frost and Fire
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“So imagine a fire going -- wood snapping the way it does when it’s a little green — the wind rattling the windows behind the curtains -- and one of those Chopin melodies that feel like sorrow and ecstasy all mixed together pouring from the keys -- and you have my idea of happiness. Or just reading, reading and lamplight, the sound of pages turning. And so you dare to be happy. You do that thing. You dare.”

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Book:The King in the Tree
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“How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark Autumn evenings come, And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue? With the music of all thy voices, dumb In life’s November too! I shall be found by the fire, suppose, O’er a great wise book as beseemeth age, While the shutters flap as the cross-wind blows, And I turn the page, and I turn the page, Not verse now, only prose!”

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Author:Robert Browning
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