Quotes About Inspiration

Between my head and my hand, there is always the face of death.

The great Easter truth is not that we are to live newly after death - that is not the great thing - but that...we are to, and may, live nobly now because we are to live forever.

I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of death.

The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.

A few can touch the magic string, and noisy fame is proud to win them: Alas for those that never sing, but die with all their music in them!

And mighty poets in their misery dead.

even though the dead are beyond our touch, they remain fully dimensional, fully capable of affecting our decisions and quandaries.

I want to go on living even after death!

The artist in his calling of interpreter creates because he must. He is so much of a voice that, for him, silence is like death

Death makes a prophet's voice louder.

if you want your name to be remembered after your death either do something worth writing or write some thing worth reading

Dying to be Me: My Journey from Cancer, to Near Death, to True Healing.

Inertia is the death of creativity

I think parts of my soul have been saved by my writing, not in the sense of escaping death, but escaping the death of the moment, perhaps.

All of European literature springs from a fight.

So I said, and quickly reached for my glass so as to duck my disingenuous face and take a bitter drop of brandy on my tongue. But Lonoff had read my designing mind, all right; for when I came upon Babel's description of the Jewish writer as a man with autumn in his heart and spectacles on his nose, I had been inspired to add, "and blood in his penis," and had then recorded the words like a challenge—a flaming Dedalian formula to ignite my soul's smithy.

Around three A.M., I left my bed and went to my desk, my head vibrant with the static of unelaborated thought.

Da professore di letteratura fervidamente coscienzioso qual ero, ho sempre gradito finire l'ora con qualcosa di commovente che gli studenti potessero portare con sè dalla classe incontaminata, fuori, nel mondo corrotto di stuzzichini preconfezionati e pop star e droga.

This is what happens when you write books. There's not just something that drives you to find out everything—something begins putting everything in your path.

Rascal Knockoff. I thought: Dostoyevsky fell in love with him.

Mishima. Rothko. Hemingway. Berryman. Koestler. Pavese. Kosinski. Arshile Gorky. Primo Levi. Hart Crane. Walter Benjamin. Peerless bunch. Nothing dishonorable signing on there.

Sharpening the writer's sense of reality. Feeding that great opportunistic maw, a novelist's mind.

They are never alone that are accompanied with noble thoughts.

For nothing from my wit or will doth flow, Since all my words thy beauty doth endite, And love doth hold my hand, and makes me write.