Others

When we sing the blues, we’re singing out our hearts, we’re singing out our feelings. Maybe we’re hurt and just can’t answer back, then we sing or maybe even hum the blues.

As a form, the blues is an autobiographical chronicle of personal catastrophe expressed lyrically.

They’ve laughed to shield their crying then shuffled through the dreams and stepped ’n fetched a country to write the blues with screams.

Beauty is only a promise of happiness.

In every man’s heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty.

In every man’s heart there is a secret nerve that answers to the vibrations of beauty.

The ideal has many names, and beauty is but one of them.

Beauty is everywhere a welcome guest.

Beauty can pierce one like a pain.

Bait, n . A preparation that renders the hook more palatable. The best kind is beauty.

There are various orders of beauty, causing men to make fools of themselves in various styles, from the desperate to the sheepish.

Personal beauty is a greater recommendation than any letter of reference.

There is nothing that makes its way more directly to the soul than beauty.

There is nothing that makes its way more directly to the soul than beauty.

A soiled baby, with a neglected nose, cannot be conscientiously regarded as a thing of beauty; and inasmuch as babyhood spans but three short years, no baby is competent to be a joy “forever.”

The arrogance of age must submit to be taught by youth.

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.

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.