Others

The years teach much which the days never know.

you kill the monster and fling him to the public.

Dear authors! Suit your topics to your strength, And ponder well your subject, and its length; Nor lift your load, before you’re quite aware What weight your shoulders will, or will not, bear.

There is no doubt that I have lots of words inside me; but at moments, like rush-hour traffic at the mouth of a tunnel, they jam.

I live with the people I create and it has always made my essential loneliness less keen.

A day when I do not write tastes of ashes.

I am a galley slave to pen and ink.

My stories have led me through my life. They shout, I follow. They run up and bite me on the leg— I respond by writing down everything that goes on during the bite. When I finish, the idea lets go.

My stories have led me through my life. They shout, I follow. They run up and bite me on the leg— I respond by writing down everything that goes on during the bite. When I finish, the idea lets go.

Writers do not live one life, they live two. There is the living and then there is the writing. There is the second tasting.

A writer out of loneliness is trying to communicate like a distant star sending signals . . . he seeks to establish a relationship.

It is splendid to be a great writer, to put men into the frying pan of your words and make them pop like chestnuts.

It is splendid to be a great writer, to put men into the frying pan of your words and make them pop like chestnuts.

The writer is an explorer. Every step is an advance into a new land.

The responsibility of a writer is to excavate the experience of the people who produced him.

A writer is a reader moved to emulation.

The writer of good will carries a lamp to illuminate the dark corners. Only that, nothing more—a tiny beam of light to show some hidden aspect of reality.

Apt words have pow’r to swage The tumors of a troubled mind, And are as balm to fester’d wounds.

The beautiful word begets the beautiful deed.

Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.

Words easy to be understood do often hit the mark, when high and learned ones do only pierce the air.

Words are like leaves, some wither every year, And every year a younger race succeeds.

Same material, apparently; but one is vivid, brief, and can do damage.

By words the mind is winged.