Quotes About Dedication

I would have done just about anything for him.

Well, now I know, whether I believe in hell or not, that vampires can love each other, that in being dedicated to evil, one does not cease to love.

When you love coffee you abandon everything to that love.

If you want to be a writer, write. Write and write and write.

I carry the obligation as if she were still with me, as if even now I had to go and spend my hours in her shrine.

I have wrestled with angels and dragons to be with you!

There was something stubborn here, something directed entirely towards our love. And how it tempted me, how it drew from me the most complete devotion.

I had given myself over to the religion, insofar as I could, be abandoned to anything.

She was the woman to whom I'd surrendered passion, pride, and honor for a long time before.

I didn't stand and take stock of what I meant to do. Rather I went at it fiercely, covering the wall in great glowing patches, making the usual garden which obsessed me, and the nymphs and goddesses whose forms were so familiar to my mind.

Sybelle is obsessed with one thing, and that is playing the piano. For the first time she laid her hands on the keys she has wanted nothing else.

The one ironclad rule is that I have to try. I have to walk into my writing room and pick up my pen every weekday morning.

If I waited till I felt like writing, I would never write at all.

My family can always tell when I'm well into a novel because the meals get very crummy.

I always say that the way you write a novel is for the first 83 drafts you pretend that nobody is ever, ever going to read it.

Books swept me away, this way and that, one after the other; I made endless vows according to their lights for I believed them.

You can serve or you can sing, and wreck your heart in prayer, working the world's hard work.

On plenty of days the writer can write three or four pages, and on plenty of other days he concludes he must throw them away.

So live. I'll be the nun for you. I am now.

I do not so much write a book as sit up with it, as with a dying friend. During visiting hours, I enter its room with dread and sympathy for its many disorders. I hold its hand and hope it will get better. This tender relationship can change in a twinkling. If you skip a visit or two, a work in progress will turn on you.

A great physicist taught at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He published many important books and papers. Often he had an idea in the middle of the night. He rose from his bed, took a shower, washed his hair, and shaved. He dressed completely, in a clean shirt, in polished shoes, a jacket and tie. Then he sat at his desk and wrote down his idea. A friend of mine asked him why he put himself through all that rigmarole. 'Why,' he said, surprised at the question, 'in honor of physics!

Dedicate (donate, give all) your life to something larger than yourself and pleasure - to the largest thing you can: to God, to relieving suffering, to contributing to knowledge, to adding to literature, or something else. Happiness lies this way, and it beats pleasure hollow.

The dedicated life is worth living. You must give your whole heart to whatever you do.

She had changed the arc of her own story, merely by typing a couple of thousand words each day for thirty days.