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But there was winter in my heart
and I was looking for the door to summer Robert Heinlein |
Where My Books Go
All the words that I gather,
And all the words that I write,
Must spread out their wings untiring,
And never rest in their flight,
Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,
And sing to you in the night,
Beyond where the waters are moving,
Storm darkened or starry bright.”
W. B. Yeats
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Annie Dillard: In her book The Writing Life (1989),
she tells the story of a fellow writer who was asked
by a student, “Do you think I could be a writer?”
“Well," the writer said, "do you like sentences?"
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Hemingway "All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened and after you are finished reading one you will feel that all that happened to you and afterwards it all belongs to you; the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse, and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was. If you can get so that you can give that to people, then you are a writer." ~from A Letter from Cuba
Salinger: “What I like best is a book that’s at least funny once in a while. . . . What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though.”
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“If we address stories as archaeological sites,
and dust through their layers with meticulous care, we find at some level there is always a doorway. A dividing point between here and there, us and them, mundane and magical. It is at the moments when the doors open, when things flow between the worlds, that stories happen.” (2) The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow |