Quotes About Inspiration

This was a Poet - It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings - And Attar so immense

Oh, what an afternoon for heaven, When 'Brontë' entered there!

What liberty A loosened spirit brings!

He danced along the dingy days, And this bequest of wings Was but a book. What liberty A loosened spirit brings!

Hope is the thing with feathers That perches on the soul, And sings the tune without words, And never stops at all.

Hope" is the thing with feathers –

XVI: A BOOK. There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take Without oppress of toll; How frugal is the chariot That bears a human soul!

No hay una fragata como un libro para llevarnos a tierras lejanas, ni caballos mejores que una página de piafante poesía. Pueden hacer el viaje los más pobres, no se pagan portazgos, porque no necesita casi nada la carroza que lleva al alma humana.

I'll tell you how the sun rose, — A ribbon at a time.

Just when you think you have summed everything up, painted it clearly and given meaning to what was once just a pool of colored paint, another canvas crops up blank and ready to be filled.

He was a symbol of independence and possibility. The ultimate fantasy.

Shall Earth no more inspire thee, Thou lonely dreamer now?

I see the light at the end of the candle.

You'd be surprised at how clearly you can hear something in your head and not be able to reproduce it.

sentences swallowed and sung back and swallowed all over again. She was made entirely out of words.

Writing stories is my way of scratching that itch: my escape from the claustrophobia of individuality. It lets me, at least for a while, live more than one life, walk more than one path. Reading, of course, can do the same.

Are stories true? ... They're magic, they're not about real people walking around today. So they're fake? No, no. Stories are a different kind of true.

I have tried to use memory and invention together, like two hands engaged in the same muddy work of digging up the past.

Well, they don't make their music just to pass the time," says Jenny, grinning. "Got to want something to sing about it, no?

I'd never believed the future was inscribed for each of us the day we were born. If anything was written in the stars, it was we who joined those dots, and our lives were the writing.

Scared is what you're feeling, says Ma, but brave is what you're doing.

All I think when I look at you is hallelujah

Cluain Mhic Nóis

Thinking that maybe we were indeed the sport of the stars. With their invisible silks, they tugged us this way and that.