Quotes About Inspiration

No one can ever amount to anything in this life without someone else to believe in him.

What better portrait of a writer than to show a man who has been bewitched by books?

Without him, we are nothing, but the paradox is that we, the figments of another mind, will outlive the mind that made us, for once we are thrown into the world, we continue to exist forever, and our stories go on being told, even after we are dead.

she'd seen the spark in his fledgling soul, and no one can ever amount to anything in this life without someone else to believe in him.

Yazmak istedi?ini hayal etti?inde yazmak istedi?ini hayal etme gücü olmuyor; ve yazmak istedi?ini hayal etti?inde de yazmak istemedi?ini hayal etme gücü olmuyor.

Half the people I know want to be writers. Why do you say want? If you're already doing it, then it's not about the future. It already exists in the present.

A book is a mysterious object, I said, and once it floats out into the world, anything can happen.

As long as you're dreaming, there's always a way out.

Spartan surroundings, yes, but surroundings have never been of any importance as far as your work is concerned, since the only space you occupy when you write your books is the page in front of your nose,

La poesía es algo hermoso, pero no vale la pena que se te congele el culo por ella.

Here I am of the air, a beautiful thing for the light to shine on. Perhaps you will remember that.

If I can give you the words you need to have, we will have a great victory.

My mind was a blithering gush, a pandemonium of rhapsodic thoughts.

No one can say where a book comes from, least of all the person who writes it. Books are born out of ignorance, and if they go on living after they are written, it's only to the degree that they cannot be understood.

That's all I've ever dreamed of, Mr. Bones. To make the world a better place. To bring some beauty to the drab, humdrum corners of the soul. You can do it with a toaster, you can do it with a poem, you can do it by reaching out your hand to a stranger. It doesn't matter what form it takes. To leave the world a little better than you found it. That's the best a man can ever do.

How to get out of the room that is the book that will go on being written for as long as he stays in the room?

Ma in una cosa è identica a sua madre: che salvo rare eccezioni, quando parla dice solo ovvietà - tutto quel repertorio di frasi fatte e idee usate che riempie le pattumiere della saggezza contemporanea. [...] Ahi, ahi, povera Rachel…proprio non ne poteva fare a meno. La mia unica figlia stava al mondo da ventinove anni e non era mai riuscita a produrre una frase originale, con un qualcosa di totalmente e irriducibilmente suo.

Think of the satisfaction [...] of crawling into bed and knowing that your dreams are about to take place on top of nineteenth-century American literature. Imagine the pleasure of sitting down to a meal with the entire Renaissance lurking below your food. In point of fact, I had no idea which books were in which boxes, but I was a great one for making up stories back then, and I liked the sound of those sentences, even if they were false.

Pero de repente, después de todo este tiempo, siento que tengo algo que decir y que si no lo escribo rápidamente, mi cabeza estallará.

That was sixty-five springs ago, and I can still see him sitting at his desk, scribbling away at his youthful memoirs as the light poured through the window, catching the dust particles that danced around him. If I concentrate hard enough, I can still hear the breath going in and out of his lungs, I can still hear the point of his pen scratching across the paper.

??te ben bunun hayalini kurdum Kemik Bey. Dünyay? daha iyi bir yer haline getirmenin hayalini. Ruhun kasvetli, karanl?k kuytular?na biraz olsun güzellik katmak istedim. Bunu bir ekmek k?zart?c?s?yla yapabilirsin, bir ?iirle yapabilirsin, elini bir yabanc?ya uzatarak yapabilirsin. Nas?l yapt???n hiç önemli de?il. Dünyay? buldu?undan daha iyi bir durumda b?rakmak. ?nsan?n elinden gelecek en iyi ?ey budur

el arte era una actividad humana que se apoyaba en los sentidos para llegar al alma,

Nimeni nu poate spune ce anume d? na?tere unei c?rti, ?i cu atât mai pu?in cel care o scrie. C?r?ile se nasc din ignoran?? iar dac? tr?iesc ?i dup? ce au fost scrise, asta se întâmpl? numai ?i numai pentru c? nu pot fi în?elese.

At 4:32 I arrive at my desk, read what I have written the day before, rip it up, eat it, then sit, absolutely motionless for a period of six hours and eighteen minutes, waiting to be inspired