Quotes from Terri Guillemets

Winter is the gray, bare shell of spring.

...the ember and firesmoke shades of winter twilight...

Earth tilts toward Winter my heart goes tilty too the summer-fever cools to a more reflective hue

In Winter, Mother Nature dims the lights, sleeps late, hides from the world, and regenerates. Winter is the hangover of seasons.

Winter is a white-gray paradise blunted of details — the simple season.

cold gray rainy day watching winter's last leaves fall from my cozy bed

Winter stars blaze in silent joy.

Resist winter as you will — the cold will come.

Life is one long experiment in learning. Who can be perfect all the time? Sometimes I feel half-wise, sometimes half-stupid.

Worry ducks when purpose flies overhead.

You can never worry your way to enlightenment.

Try not to worry, as it's sticky and hard to scrub off.

Don't chain your worries to your body. The burden soon becomes heavy and your health will give too much of itself picking up the extra load.

Worry bankrupts the spirit.

Worry whomps and wails on weary souls.

Author: a dancer of typewriter keys.

Let your pen faithfully reflect the glint of light from your soul.

Any real writer — or reader — has had a papercut on the forehead at least once.

Your writing chamber isn't the office or the study — it's your heart.

The traditional sacrifices of a writer are soul and sleep.

Writing is both a sacrificing and a saving of soul.

Writers are just people who have a whole lot on the inside that they need to get to the outside, with pen and paper their preferred method of transport. Same with dancers, artists, and singers — all the same urges with differing transportation.

Writing is easy. You just sit down and focus — but not too hard.

An author plants the alphabet — and harvests flowers, nourishment, and weeds.