It took me nine months to write 60 pages. It was very frustrating.
quote by Sara Paretsky
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Related quotes
Poetry
Don’t write me
Pages and pages
Of poetry…
Write a few lines
Of love to me…
And I’ll decipher
The poet in thee.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Liberty
On my books and poetry,
On my desk and on the computer
On the sand and on the beach
I write your name
On all the pages I have read
On all the blank pages
Stone bloody shed or ash
I write your name
On my greedy, tender friends
On my comrades, beloved country,
On my clumsy hands
I write your name
On my health and wealth
On the risk which disappeared
On the hope without memory
I write your name
And by the power of one word
I begin a life again
I was born to know you
To name you.
Liberty
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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Destiny Life Leaf Pages
manuscripts we all life write
destiny life leaf pages
some leave empty pages white
others shimmer reflecting light
some smear pages with dirt
record chaos rip rub out hurt
how shall we fill manuscript pages...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Wing Pages Of The Butterfly
at the nursery
while people
are at purchase
and at transactions
a blue butterfly
comes by
and opens its pages to me
swift and quick
and it says to me:
'Read! Read!
Read my pages! '
'I can’t read, '
I say,
amused
at this brash butterfly
'Read and write!
Read and write
about me,
and all flitting butterflies
Read
and write, you silly! '
it commands
And so I read
and I copy
and these are the words
the words from those
pages
the butterfly
holds up to me
poem by Raj Arumugam
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And when I'm writing, I write a lot anyway. I might write pages and pages of conversation between characters that don't necessarily end up in the book, or in the story I'm working on, because they're simply my way of getting to know the characters.
quote by Norton Juster
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I write five pages a day. If you would read five pages a day, we'd stay right even.
quote by Robert B. Parker
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If you can't think of what to write, tough luck; write anyway. If you can think of lots more when you've finished the three pages, don't write it; it'll be that much easier to get going next day.
quote by Philip Pullman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is Written In Red
I am written in red,
I am sliding across the page of life.
I am racing across the lines of language.
I am red.
I write words,
I create lines and sentences,
I am kept in solitude
I am red.
I create paragraphs.
I create signatures.
I know what you're thinking before you speak,
I am red.
I cannot breath because I am enclosed in a capsule.
A capsule that covers the knowledge inside.
All I do is stare at pages,
All I know is pages,
I become apart of the pages,
And the pages become apart of me.
I become apart of english,
I become apart of words,
I am RED.
BY: Takisha Fields
poem by Kiesha fields
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Dear Diary
i am writing like i am talking to you dear diary
my true friend
mama and papa died a long time ago
and i am left with some wounds and scabs and
some injuries that refuse to hear about those
that must die and go away
today, i will tell you something but i will not write it
in your pages
i am happy because i do not think anymore
i am happier because i do not have to write anymore
i am happiest because now i live in my mind away from the
the cage of your pages, i have learned to live and fly away like a bird
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Minds
He preys on
Vulnerable
Minds.
Asks them
To write
Pages and
Pages of their
Life’s stories.
He then
Talks about
Them to other
Minds.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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A Poets Message
As you flick through my pages
and surrender to my thoughtful and playful words
Remember I am just another actress
on this very frightful dark stage
As a poet
Its all about display
Its all about the audience
The booing or thunderous clapping
can be substituted
by bestowing me with genuine ratings
Your random comments
will be appreciated
any time, any place, any moment
as I am on a mission
To write a million words
spice up my wordly performance
with some occasional romance
I am on a mission to write
about the people, politicians and musicians
To write about the prostitutes
That roam the redlight district each single minute
I am on a mission to write about me and you
to write about the world
and everything thats brand new or true
Now and then
I may have the writers block
Its easy to laugh
Its easy to mock
But you inspire my imagination
You are all my inspiration
as you flick through my pages
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Distinct Work
Never be hard at distinct work,
For you delve into the nightmares;
Open the work of the words you write,
Closing the pages as you send letters.
The better writer forces his mind
To act in a strange way, almighty at last.
The work carries on working like words,
Worlds of pictures design our images so late.
May the weight of the pages abhor the life
To come. It defines us as we write on the shelf.
Opening words of slaughter is like being drunk,
Heavy business is about, with clarity.
poem by Naveed Akram
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There's a whole bunch of unfinished stuff. Then I've got books of lyrics. I find it frustrating to finish a song and not be able to record it... so I don't write a million songs.
quote by Christine McVie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My goal is two pages a day, five days a week. I never want to write, but I'm always glad that I have done it. After I write, I go to work at the bookstore.
quote by Kate DiCamillo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am a very linear thinker, so I write beginning to end. I write hundreds of pages per book that never make it into print.
quote by Laurell K. Hamilton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden Days
Another day of toil and strife,
Another page so white,
Within that fateful Log of Life
That I and all must write;
Another page without a stain
To make of as I may,
That done, I shall not see again
Until the Judgment Day.
Ah, could I, could I backward turn
The pages of that Book,
How often would I blench and burn!
How often loathe to look!
What pages would be meanly scrolled;
What smeared as if with mud;
A few, maybe, might gleam like gold,
Some scarlet seem as blood.
O Record grave, God guide my hand
And make me worthy be,
Since what I write to-day shall stand
To all eternity;
Aye, teach me, Lord of Life, I pray,
As I salute the sun,
To bear myself that every day
May be a Golden One.
poem by Robert William Service
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A Reminder for Myself...
erasing the past
is like burning the pages of your diary
the smoke hurts a while
but
soon you begin to write your own future
another page
another stroke of the pen
that sometimes we admire because it is nicer now
there will always be a difference
until you tear the pages again
crumple them
and let them go
sometimes i think
i need to make paper planes
or perhaps kites
and so i need some strings
some bamboo sticks
for bones
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Liberty
On my school notebooks
On my desk and on the trees
On the sands of snow
I write your name
On the pages I have read
On all the white pages
Stone, blood, paper or ash
I write your name
On the images of gold
On the weapons of the warriors
On the crown of the king
I write your name
On the jungle and the desert
On the nest and on the brier
On the echo of my childhood
I write your name
On all my scarves of blue
On the moist sunlit swamps
On the living lake of moonlight
I write your name
On the fields, on the horizon
On the birds’ wings
And on the mill of shadows
I write your name
On each whiff of daybreak
On the sea, on the boats
On the demented mountaintop
I write your name
On the froth of the cloud
On the sweat of the storm
On the dense rain and the flat
I write your name
On the flickering figures
On the bells of colors
On the natural truth
I write your name
On the high paths
On the deployed routes
On the crowd-thronged square
I write your name
On the lamp which is lit
On the lamp which isn’t
On my reunited thoughts
I write your name
On a fruit cut in two
Of my mirror and my chamber
On my bed, an empty shell
I write your name
On my dog, greathearted and greedy
On his pricked-up ears
On his blundering paws
I write your name
On the latch of my door
On those familiar objects
On the torrents of a good fire
I write your name
On the harmony of the flesh
On the faces of my friends
On each outstretched hand
I write your name
On the window of surprises
On a pair of expectant lips
In a state far deeper than silence
I write your name
On my crumbled hiding-places
On my sunken lighthouses
On my walls and my ennui
I write your name
On abstraction without desire
On naked solitude
On the marches of death
I write your name
And for the want of a word
I renew my life
For I was born to know you
To name you
Liberty.
poem by Paul Eluard
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How To Write A Novel
How to write a Novel
I like to write a book, any book as long as it has my name on the cover.
A one day course, how to write a novel. The course leader, a published
writer, wore a long dress but I could see her ankles, they were beautiful
and much younger than the rest of her. Dyed, red hair, face very pale,
presumable from sitting in all day writing how-to books.
Beginning, middle and an end, yes, like life, capricious in the middle,
the ending tends to write itself. Sudden endings are best, run over by
a bus, or a train crash, where cell phones go on ringing in the broken
interior. Then silence. Long ending are best being avoided, hospital bed
pages after pages, endless days, exhausted relatives.
Lovely ankles, did she paint her toenails red? She wore flat shoes
sensible for any woman over fifty. Classroom empty, they had all gone
out for lunch, I went to the pub and stayed there. Beginning, middle and
an ending, what more is there to know?
poem by Oskar Hansen
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I had to actually purchase a book to learn the API and write the client. It was pretty frustrating trying to learn the API and develop a product quickly.
quote by Shawn Fanning
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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