Quotes About Creativity

Poetry is life distilled.

Very early in life I became fascinated with the wonders language can achieve. And I began playing with words.

I shall create! If not a note, a hole./If not an overture, a desecration.

Each body has its art...

The whole thing starts with a single knot and needles. A word and pen. Tie a loop in nothing. Look at it. Cast on, repeat the procedure till you have a line that you can work with. It's a pattern made of relation alone, my patience, my rhythm, till empty bights create a fabric that can be worn, if you're lucky and practised. It's never too late to pick up dropped stitches... (from "How to Knit a Poem")

Poetry has acquired a fluffy image, which is totally at odds with its real nature. It's not pastel colours, but blood-red and black. If you don't obey it as a force in your life, it will tear you to pieces.

I wouldn't say I'm a very original thinker, but if I have a good experience with something, I'll want to take it further or adapt it in some way.

I am in a prison: one wall is the avant-garde, the other wall is the past, and I want to escape.

Gyáva az a korszak, amely a maga egyidej? képi m?vészetét nem teremti meg, és szerencsétlenek azok a m?vészek, akik ilyen, a nemzeti emlékezetben semmiféle nyomot sem hagyó korszakban élnek.

a remekm?vek jellegzetessége, hogy vannak bennük hibák, hibátlan m?vet csak a középszer?ek tudnak írni.

Some people believe that it was while studying the niceties of British and American spelling that the Norwegian artist Edvard Munch painted his masterpiece, 'The Scream'.

Perhaps of all the creations of man, language is the most astonishing.

I'd love to step off this well-trodden straight and boring path. To somehow live differently, think different thoughts, feel different feelings than others. It wouldn't bother me to be as alone as a tree on the plains. My leaves would be like no other tree's.

Ah, la necesidad de copiar, de ser lo que admiraba, de apropiármelo.

la realidad, desde luego, es muy superior a la ficción, aunque no sea sino por su imaginación desbordada.

The most beautiful things cannot be written, unfortunately. Fortunately. We would have to be able to write with our eyes, with wild eyes, with the tears of our eyes, with the frenzy of a gaze, with the skin of our hands.

To fly/steal is woman's gesture, to steal into language to make it fly.

I Drink. I Burn. I Dream. And Sometimes, I tell Stories !

The author of what I describe is not myself, it is the Other. First of all it is you, it is the woman, it is the queen, it is the Child, it is a person who is greater than I and who surpasses you as well, whom you do not know. I am your scribe.

This book is my obliging you. This is a book I never would have dared write, if I did not feel protected and obligated by your madness.

for a week she has been tormented, she burns to write something, gentle warmth emanates from her whole body, but still nothing comes of it. Besides, at the same time she is also busy burning old books, manuals, professional papers, theoretical volumes--because they keep her from doing the one thing that now seems urgent and right to her: shouting her loud hymn of ecstatic pleasure, breaching the tide of the old tongue's hard blare.

I write woman: woman must write woman. And man, man. So only an oblique consideration will be found here of man; it's up to him to say where his masculinity and femininity are at: this will concern us once men have opened their eyes and seen themselves clearly.

Everyone knows that a place exists which is not economically or politically indebted to all the vileness and compromise. That is not obliged to reproduce the system. That is writing. If there is a somewhere else that can escape the infernal repetition, it lies in that direction, where it writes itself, where it dreams, where it invents new worlds.

And why don't you write?Write! Writing is for you, you are for you; your body is yours, take it. I know why you haven't written (And why I didn't write before the age of twenty-seven). Because writing is at once too high, too great for you, it's reserved for the great - that is, for "great men"; and it's "silly". Besides, you've written a little, but in secret.