David Whyte Quotes
A good poem brims with reflected beauty and even a bracing, beautiful ugliness. At the center of our lives, in the midst of the busyness and the forgetting, is a story that makes sense when everything extraneous has been taken away.
David Whyte
Quotes to Explore
I don't think it's possible to separate out the strands of a writer's history, circumstances, life events, and that writer's themes.
Dani Shapiro
There is a great difference between Christianity and religion at the south. If a man goes to the communion table, and pays money into the treasury of the church, no matter if it be the price of blood, he is called religious.
Harriet Ann Jacobs
I would sooner read a time-table or a catalogue than nothing at all. They are much more entertaining than half the novels that are written.
W. Somerset Maugham
Long for me as I for you, forgetting, what will be inevitable, the long black aftermath of pain.
Malcolm Lowry
The days of the painter at the Bauhaus appear to be truly over. They are estranged from the actual core of present activities, and their influence is more restricting than inspiring.
Walter Gropius
I prefer drawing the things I've written to handing them off to another artist. Turns out I'm a huge control freak - and because I write in thumbnails, the art is already happening by the time I start writing!
Raina Telgemeier
People look at me, they know I've appeared in costume dramas and they automatically assume I must be a Tory, I must be a certain type of person.
Dan Stevens
Well, you know, I never want to feel like I have a set plan of what I'm supposed to do. I kind of like to go script by script, and if I like the character and like the story that's why I want to do a movie.
Abigail Breslin
At this point we find ourselves confronted by a very disquieting question: Do we really wish to act upon our knowledge?
Aldous Huxley
The fact that a belief has a good moral effect upon a man is no evidence whatsoever in favor of its truth.
Bertrand Russell
Beautiful men and women with distorted shadows came and scorched their handprints onto doors before vanishing skyward, drafts of heat billowing behind them with the whumph of unseen wings. Here and there, feathers fell, and they were like tufts of white fire, disintegrating to ash as soon as they touched the ground.
Laini Taylor
A good poem brims with reflected beauty and even a bracing, beautiful ugliness. At the center of our lives, in the midst of the busyness and the forgetting, is a story that makes sense when everything extraneous has been taken away.
David Whyte
