Quotes About Blankness

He is simply a hole in the air.

For they knew nothing, absolutely nothing—nothing, nothing, nothing, like the Dadaists.

Brenda was having none of it. She sat there like one of the working-class ladies of his childhood, bitter fighters with bright red faces, emanating a savage scary blankness that he understood to mean: Fuck you, you are not forgiven.

Les murs sont infiniment nus. Rien n'y est suspendu, rien de les définit. Ils sont dépourvus de texture. Même à l'œil le plus aguerri ou aux doigts les plus sensibles, ils demeurent illisibles. Vous ne trouverez jamais ici la moindre marque. Aucune trace ne survit. Les murs effacent tout. Ils sont en permanence lavés de toute trace. Obliques, à jamais obscurs et vierges. On a là le parfait panthéon de l'absence.

Where there is nothing, absolutely anything is possible.

Start with a blank surface. It doesn't have to be paper or canvas, but I feel it should be white. We call it white because we need a word, but its true name is nothing. Black is the absence of light, but white is the absence of memory, the color of can't remember.

Moonlight stared back at Tree, blankness giving way to excitement as she recognized him. "Earth!" Sunrise, whose coat was the same shade of yellow as Tree's, stepped forward, her tail rising in excitement, but paused at Tree's

So often is the virgin sheet of paper more real than what one has to say, and so often one regrets having marred it.

wondering how one went about forcing one's mind into blankness, particularly after a lifetime lived on the axiom that the constant, clearest, most ruthless function of his rational faculty was his foremost duty.

They left. Among the many dumb rules of paragraphing foisted on students in composition courses is the one that says that a paragraph may not consist of a single sentence. Wilkerson ends a richly descriptive introductory chapter with a paragraph composed of exactly two syllables. The abrupt ending and the expanse of blankness at the bottom of the page mirror the finality of the decision to move and the uncertainty of the life that lay ahead. Good writing finishes strong.

So often is the virgin sheet of paper more real than what one has to say, and so often one regrets having marred it.

Something inside me had dropped away, and nothing came in to fill the cavern.

An empty book is like an infant's soul, in which anything may be written. It is capable of all things, but containeth nothing. I have a mind to fill this with profitable wonders.

famoso proverbio de Mao: «Es en la página en blanco donde se escribe el más hermoso de los poemas»

Shprintzl Rudashevsky's wide face takes on a philosophical, even mystic, blankness. She looks like she's wetting her pants and enjoying the warmth.

And yet in her eyes there was something unreadable, something that did not want to be read, the determined blankness that in predator animals conceals hostile calculation, and in prey forms part of an overwhelming effort to seem to have disappeared.

Cuando le preguntaron qué era la cosa más terrorífica con la que se había encontrando, repuso: Un folio en blanco.

A white wall is the fool's paper.

just a state of nothingness.

A great many people give me the impression of never having for a moment felt anything.

When I write, I intentionally erase any knowledge from my mind.

Nothing-to-see is what most of the universe consists of.

Often I wonder to what extent a mortal's love grows from the bedrock of his or her foreknowledge of death, love coiling like a green stem out of that blankness in a way I'll never quite understand. And lately I've been having a terrible thought: Our love affair will end before the world does.

Often I wonder to what extent a mortal's love grows from the bedrock of his or her foreknowledge of death, love coiling like a green stem out of that blankness in a way I'll never quite understand.