Well, to be honest I think I'm a better short story writer than a novelist. Novels I find very hard, hours and hours, weeks and weeks, of conscious thought - whereas short stories slip out painlessly in a few days.
quote by Eric Brown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
2 Weeks
14 Days left
336 hours
Until the end of this chapter
The chapter of hell in my life
2 weeks until I leave
8 hours a day
8 hours of hell in this school
Dealing with ignorance driven by people
Pushing back judgmental walls
After all 8 years in this prison
All I have is 2 weeks,14 days,336 hours left inside this hellhole
Now I can’t figure out what to do
Skip graduation, or stand on the stage and face the music?
That answer has left me then came back
In just 2 week I’ll be gone never to set foot inside again
In just 14 days I’ll leave and never turn back
In just 336 hours, my face will be erased from this place
2 weeks until I graduate from 8th grade
Why now, it must end sooner
In just 2 months I’ll be in high school
2 weeks…
14 days… 336 hours…
The memory of me will be gone
poem by Marcellus Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I've made seventeen or eighteen films now, only two of which have been original screenplays, all the others have been based on short stories or novels, and I find the long short story ideal for adaptation.
quote by Satyajit Ray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
8 Weeks
8 weeks to live
8 weeks to die
8 weeks is all they had
8 weeks to do the things they never did
8 weeks of fighting
8 weeks of trying to fit everything in
8 weeks of pain, suffering, and confusion
8 weeks of faking a smile
8 weeks of repetition
8 weeks of knowing they were nearing the end
8 weeks of love from friends and family
8 weeks…the shortest/longest, most hurtful/helpful weeks of their lives
8 weeks later…knowing they’ll never be able to do the things they’ve always wanted to
8 weeks later…now realizing he’ll never see her walk, at graduation nor down the aisle
8 weeks later…close friends and family now in shambles
8 weeks later…close friends and family never closer
8 weeks later…here we are
poem by Anthony Martello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
How Time Feels Without You
Seconds are like days
Minutes are like weeks
Hours are like months
Days are like years
Weeks are like centuries
When I'm away from you
poem by Steve Yeager
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All These Things
Sometimes I don’t feel who I am.
I don’t feel like what I write
because I don’t want to be pigeonholed
for just one thing I do.
I think myself as a whole
and not just one object.
I call myself a writer,
not a poet,
not a novelist,
neither a songwriter
nor a short story writer be.
I am a writer
because all those things
emulate from within me.
10 April 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I've read short stories that are as dense as a 19th century novel and novels that really are short stories filled with a lot of helium.
quote by Lynn Abbey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wattle
Wattle wattle everywhere
Wattle we do next wattle
Yellow life exploding out from each coarse stem
Joyful for a few short weeks
A few short weeks and then
Scrub wattle dry wattle
Until spring comes again.
poem by David Keig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Around the corner
I wont tell you the stories he has told me,
or the reason why for weeks and months
he couldn't sleep.
About the walk around the corner,
he kept walking round that corner,
walking round that corner
for days and months and weeks.
That isn't my story to tell you, only his;
but I can tell you that he walks around
that corner through his days
and through his weeks.
I can tell you that he marched them home
leading from the front,
right down through the Guildhall
to the sound of thudding drum.
I can tell you that he marched all those
young boys home.
All of them, but one.
poem by Diana Rosser
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Summer Nights Are Short
The summer nights are short
Where northern days are long:
For hours and hours lark after lark
Trills out his song.
The summer days are short
Where southern nights are long:
Yet short the night when nightingales
Trill out their song.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Yeah, about sixteen to twenty weeks a year. For example, we can do America in six or seven weeks. You can do Europe in three weeks; England in two weeks. South America you could do in three weeks; Asia you could do in three weeks.
quote by Warren Cuccurullo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
We always work at least a month to six weeks before we go on the road, usually for something like eight to 12 hours a night. It took six weeks to do it this time. We just play virtually everything we know.
quote by Charlie Watts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Fairy tale gone wrong?
It began like a fairy tale
A woman and a male
Out of two different cultures
In search for adventures
They truly liked each other
A smile followed another
Where did the fairy tale go wrong
Can you tell me just this one
It has been about six weeks
That I feel misery so strong
that she seems to be gone
that my ship has some leaks
Why did the fairy tale turn false
I know that she truly likes me
The only thought that consoles
but as long as I don’t see
her smiling face again
only pain does remain
Do you remember the old fairy tales
Can you see the story that never fails
To show you that love always wins
Whatever difficulties or hard sins
For us a hard time seems worse enough
Just six weeks do seem much too tough
Where did this fairy tale go bad
Why do the last weeks turn me mad
It’s a story that makes me sad
Only you could make me glad
poem by Michael Saurer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I'm mostly a novelist these days, but I have written short stories in Fantasy, Science Fiction and horror.
quote by Sarah Zettel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Tea For One
(page/plant)
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes seem to slip into days?
Oh twenty-four hours, baby sometimes seem to slip into days
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way
Sittin, lookin at the clock, time moves so slow
Ive been watchin for the hands to move
Until I just cant look no more
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes seems to slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way.
To sing a song for you, I recall you used to say
Oh baby this ones for we two, which in the end is you anyway
How come twenty four hours, baby sometimes slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way.
There was a time that I stood tall, in the eyes of other men
But by my own choice I left you woman, and now I cant get back again
How come twenty-four hours, sometimes slip into days?
A minute seems like a lifetime, baby when I feel this way
A minute seems like a lifetime
When I feel this way...i feel this way
song performed by by Led Zeppelin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You saved me....
I walked down a endless black tunnel.
I gave up hope and I gave up looking.
I wasn't truly happy.
I wore fake smiles.
There wasn't much reason for me to go to school.
I would walk for hours.
Hours turned to days.
Days turned to weeks.
Weeks turned to months of walking in my lonely despair.
After a few months I began to see light.
When i surfaced you were the first one to catch my attention.
You pulled me out.
You made me happy.
You gave me reason to go to school.
You brought me out of my lonely despair.
And for that I thank you, and I will love you till the end of time maybe even longer.
poem by Kendra Swan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
11 Weeks
11 weeks of war and 11 weeks of peace,
11 weeks of love and 11 weeks of pain,
11 weeks of sorrow ans 11 weeks of my mind that writes;
But i need hot chili pepper from Chile and,
A rosted turkey from Turkey to rest my mind on your love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Am Thinking Of You
Beloved,
I am thinking of you..
Like always..
The seconds mingling into minutes,
Hours, days, weeks and mighty years.
And in my thoughts
I wonder,
If you too someplace,
Are thinking of me
The seconds mingling into minutes,
Hours, days, weeks and mighty years.
Do you too,
Get up parched..
In the middle of the night,
Missing me..
Catch the moon by the window sill,
And solace in the thought,
That someplace I might also be there..
Parched..
Catching the moon by the window sill?
Might be….
Do you too,
Sometimes,
Look at the empty place near you
And wish,
If only my love was there!
And catching a sigh of acrid air
Smile at the thought,
That someplace I too am breathing
The same air?
Might be….
Do you too,
Follow the tick tock of the time piece
and wonder whether I am getting dressed,
working..
or getting ready for a walk.
or am plain brooding..
waiting for your eyes, your touch,
your voice, your laugh, your love?
Might be…..
Might be you do the the things I do…
Might be you have your separate way…
Might be you are totally different…
Might be you may not at all think of me…
Yet, all I can do is think more of you..
cause...
For you it's the whole world out there..
For me, my whole world is here..
With you….in you…
Beloved,
I am thinking of you..
Like always..
poem by Anjali Kakati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Last Three Weeks 5-11-09
The last three weeks are:
crazy
heaktic
busy
tireing
exaugh sting
The last three weeks are:
full of test
parties
exams
food
movies
The last three weeks are:
exciting
emotional
no seniors, well for a week
losts of homework
no homework
The last three weeks mean
that school is almost out,
start counting down the days,
graduation,
awards,
SUMMER IS ALMOST HERE! !
This Fun
it's fun
in fact it's more fun
being here
i am thinking
a lot
about people that
i've met
that i barely know
there are only
glimpses
outlines of their lives
in such
a short conversation
it makes me feel
so elated
comforting me that
i am not alone
in this...
say,
sorrow joy
sweet-sour memories
like fish and sauce
on a platter
this fun thing
it's more fun really
on these islands
i am taking more
hours of my life
on the plane
hopping from one island
to another
threshing out stories
of real people
that i met
and talk with
in such a short
witting hours
i do not care
anymore
if what they are
telling are true
does not really matter
sort of
short stories themselves
that they are
weaving
like spiders
in the far corners
of the cities
it's more fun
to be frank with you
merely listening
somehow
the words that travel in my ears
make my senses full
i am not alone
all of them
are telling me
this world is a place
of stories
sounds and colors
it is real
they are all telling me
how come
that i did not really know that?
must i be dumb?
or was i just sleeping for all those years
or simply pretending
to know a lot
from books and pages of the newspapers
?
i am seeing a big river
i put myself inside a wooden boat
take the paddle
and start my way
in the water
i stop a while
to touch the ripples
and then
we are going
into something that we have
never know
under the moon
my shadow speaks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I trained 8 hours a day 7 seven days a week and I had 2 weeks off in a year.
quote by Julie Benz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!