Quotes About Interpretation

Er is niets buiten de tekst.

as if perception and thought were independent of the sign

ELLE NE PARLE PAS L'INNOMMÉE OR TU L'ENTENDS MIEUX QUE MOI AVANT MOI EN CE MOMENT MÊME

le plus ancien encore à venir ~ elle ne parle pas l'innommée or tu l'entends mieux que moi avant moi en ce moment même

Jacques Derrida

simply one problem among others.

her music; its unmatched poetic shape and impact, which, like metaphor in language, breaks out of its own restrictions and — with vast imaginal inference and resonance — expresses for us things yet unknown.

Smiling amiably, the San Angelo man said: "If you do have to explain it, why not use the old joke? Man asked a rancher in the Fort Stockton area: 'Caleb, your six boys are all good Democrats, I hope?' and Caleb said: 'Yep, all but Elmer. He learned to read.

Why is it, Reverend Hale, that we must always laugh at our book, but always revere yours?

explained: "It happened, but only in the mind of the writer. And, of course, in your mind, too. That's what a novel is. The exchange of dreams.

western paintings did not occur.

A thimble might be a kiss, a flower might be a name, and a dragon might be a ship

The purpose of art is to lay bare the questions that have been hidden by the answers.

Whatever you describe to another person is also a revelation of who you are and who you think you are. You can not describe anything without betraying your point of view, your aspirations, your fears, your hopes. Everything.

One writes out of one thing only--one's own experience. Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from this experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give. This is the only real concern of the artist, to recreate out of the disorder of life that order which is art.

You can not describe anything without betraying your point of view, your aspirations, your fears, your hopes. Everything.

Every writer has only one story to tell, and he has to find a way of telling it until the meaning becomes clearer and clearer, until the story becomes at once more narrow and larger, more and more precise, more and more reverberating.

One writes out of one thing only—one's own experience. Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from this experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give.

It is said that the camera cannot lie, but rarely do we allow it to do anything else, since the camera sees what you point it at: the camera sees what you want it to see. The language of the camera is the language of our dreams.

But she saw nothing in my eyes—she stared at me as though I had made a long journey on a white charger all the way to her prison house.

And he knew again that she was not saying everything she meant; in a kind of secret language she was telling him today something that he must remember and understand tomorrow

His smile made me feel a little foolish.

A story is impelled by the necessity to reveal: the aim of the story is revelation, which means that a story can have nothing—at least not deliberately—to hide. This also means that a story resolves nothing. The resolution of a story must occur in us, with what we make of the questions with which the story leaves us. A plot, on the other hand, must come to a resolution, prove a point: a plot must answer all the questions which it pretends to pose.

He grinned. I could not tell whether he grinned because he thought I was lying or because he knew I was telling the truth.