I'll agonize over sentences. Mostly because you're trying to create specific effects with sentences, and because there are a number of different voices in the book.
quote by Neil Gaiman
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Related quotes
It's weird when people start sentences with 'frankly' - as if their other sentences don't count.
quote by Doug Coupland
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America has the longest prison sentences in the West, yet the only condition long sentences demonstrably cure is heterosexuality.
quote by Bruce Jackson
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The aphorism in which I am the first master among Germans, are the forms of ""eternity""; my ambition is to say in ten sentences what everyone else says in a book - what everyone else does not say in a book.
quote by Friedrich Nietzsche
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It is my ambition to say in ten sentences what others say in a whole book.
quote by Friedrich Nietzsche
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Vigorous writing is concise. A sentence should contain no unnecessary words, a paragraph no unnecessary sentences, for the same reason that a drawing should have no unnecessary lines and a machine no unnecessary parts. This requires not that the writer make all his sentences short, or that he avoid all detail and treat his subjects only in outline, but that every word tell.
William Strunk, Jr in Elements of Style (1919)
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A significant number of pages and sentences that the administration wants to keep in a classified status have already been released publicly, some of it by public statements of the leadership of the CIA and the FBI.
quote by Bob Graham
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Students Of Numbers
In these days of stupidity
Having a voice for the signs
Then in the rivers of mud
We strive for the heavenly bridges
And the gates riding in
With helpers and genetic men.
The female crowd was bitter
To bend and interfere in the holiness
Then in sentences of joy.
I see a godly helper in the distance
Who seeks knowledge after me!
I see a good man be naturalness
On the grounds of pity.
I send the sentences of regret
Into the abyss of modelling,
Models of numbers are in substance
Due to the subtle arts.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Big Speech
Sentences are big, small as well,
Their tailors stupidly work
And the tools split when words are built.
The tools are a spirit, a well-being, a promise,
The tools benefit us in soothing ways.
The sentences become a speech for the royal kings,
They think overall that they own them,
Giving work and problems, saving us, living with danger.
The intelligence of a wish is that of writing
And poetry.
Words spell what we know,
They always now keep magic
That the king sows deep in the land.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Understanding
We are here
To understand, not to condemn yet
Anyone.
I perfectly understand
Darkness
My companion since then
Has always been
Chaos and Confusion
I agree it is hard to write
What beginning there was
To point out the opening word
And to start writing
Sentences
But take love
First, Above All
Just love and take more pondering
On compassion
Take the teachings of Empathy
Whether you end with Sadness
Or you end with Happiness
Whether you arrive at Nothing
It does not really matter
Anymore
Just take love
The rest shall follow
The pen shall begin to write the word
Itself
And then, mind you
The sentences are too many.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Words Of Some Sort
The balancing action of a few words wraps us in sin,
Sin has a way of telling others the whole secret.
The embroidery so sudden enacts the religious view and worship,
A word or two carried new meaning to the select.
A balance of words means new phrases and more sentences,
Sentences cause us to seep in thinking, more than you.
Those words are plentiful for the soul, in effect,
The affectionate soul marries to the other soul.
My acts are numbered by the absence of fondness
For words that encase a comprehension of some sort.
poem by Naveed Akram
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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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A Word
If I make a word
it is first sculpted from letters
on the page
a canvass across which
letters skate
from margin to margin transforming
into meanings and sentences
which give us art, science, poetry
and civilization.
This is created from an arbitrary entity,
the scratchings we call letters
which in turn form yet another
mysterious entity we call the alphabet.
What manner of miracle is this?
All of civilization is born from
these scribbly scratchings?
So if each letter is an imaginary entity,
an arbitrary symbol we made up
which has no meaning by itself
and lives inside another arbitrary entity
we call the alphabet
we may properly ask
what is going on here?
Meaning here is deriving from an arbitrary nothingness
arbitrarily created from arbitrary letters
by virtue of common agreement around
what words will mean?
Ponder this:
we too, as individuals are letter unique
and, in our variety, form a kind of human alphabet.
What we all mean and can mean to each other
therefore depends upon the words we form
in our families and communities; our human alphabets.
So, one word letters such as 'I' are too self-regarding
and are narcissistic anomalies
not true words at all.
Better words have more syllables than that
and have enabled us to form social sentences
more complex
which we can use for good or ill
peace or war, love or hate.
So watch your words and sentences
don't swing them recklessly in a crowded room
you'll put somebody's mind out
or create genius.
Big responsibility this
especially for us poets.
So in the end
in mass society
you and I are a single letter
but combined create all there is.
You can take that
as the first
and last
Word
And by the way
arbitrary letters
are electrons at the sub-atomic level
and combine to make molecules
and the greatest meaning of all
All of the Universe.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Today... 'God my Maker
I was intricately woven upon His heavenly loom
As He carefully knit me together in my mothers womb
In that most secret of places when my conception took place
Ready at the time of my birth to enter the human race
Before the first moment of my earthly existence began
God had written in His book my inmost being and life plan
Each syllable penned and words in calligraphy composed
There sentences were handwritten and the paragraphs disclosed,
From the first chapter of my birth to the last one of my death
Each had been thoughtfully written before I'd taken a breath
I praise God that I am fearfully and wonderfully made
The handiwork of My Great Creator is in me displayed
Living letters turned into syllables and then became words.
These words began to form phrases and the sentences emerged.
Chapters made out of many paragraphs were arranged with care
each carefully written by the in the book of my life there.
For my life is now that book to be read by everyone
because it speaks of His Grace and the wonders Jesus has done.
For in His mercy before the world was made and time began
He had included Roy Allen in His great Salvation plan.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Conjugating
I conjugate the verb to be:
miracle sentences;
non-existent one moment
then coming into Being
utterly unique the next;
perhaps never before
uttered
in all of existence
before this
moment,
on this page
at this time
from this mind.
Miracle this,
shared by all of us.
I conjugate the verb Coming into Being
from Potentialities of Being
trolling for words not yet extent
having some portion of Being
but not yet born
on Poet Pages.
I conjugate the verb Now Being Born
words coupling in sentences
flowing down
forming paragraphs
couplets, rhymes,
emotional hieroglyphics,
history,
Ideas
and glifs,
and then they
are on to Being Past.
In single verbs
we lash together
all Being;
that which is Now Born on pages,
that which was written yesterday
and those word-stories
we borrow
from future sentences
yet to be born
which live only in our dreams.
We conjure all this
from that Beautiful Nothingness
where Creativity lives
where unexpectedly
these Beings
come as daytime
and night-time sprites
into life
shine as diamond-faceted
moon-beams
changing who we are
as they transit.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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An Eternal Étudiante
Ah, tiara on my head, approved by my colleagues
I opened an SMS to be informed our class has been
cancelled for this afternoon, now doing sentences
we would have done in class but there is no joy, one
needs an enthusiastic trainer to suffer repetition of
grammar rules in meaningless sentences
The only fun I have is to change my name and address
in an application to become an actress - comédienne -
yet I could never could be one, when strangers look at
me I sprout horns and turn into a hunchback - I might
get a role as the Hunchback of Notre Dame but this is
hardly something on which I wish to base my fame
So I shall remain a traductrice, an eternal étudiante
"traductrice" = translator
"étudiante" = student
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Injection Sites
They claim that mandatory drug sentences are too expensive,
And keeping criminal drug addicts in jail could be offensive,
And injection sites on all streets would be a much better way,
They despise the mandatory drug sentences used in the USA.
Their ability to fill pages in the media should be noted,
The fact that criminals buy stuff on the street is sugar coated,
With half the alphabet after their names to prove that they are right,
Are we a Canadian herd of sheep being led out of sight?
And they can hide behind the Access to Information Act,
While politicians slide and the dressed up Supreme Court detracts,
Activists use the phrase “Harm Reduction” to justify their cause.
While waiting for their followers and the media to applause.
poem by James Bredin
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Words, Words, Words
We seem to define words so as to use them,
Conquering the speech of another person;
Just to be a speaker is even better for a person
Than to read or write and practise scholarship.
We meet words carefully chosen by them and combine
To form sentences that will be recognised,
Thus the attached meaning is passed on;
Prosperity is the objective, success is marvellous.
Scholars are thinking men, relaxed by books,
They do not only speak, but look at the messages
From the written word, learning godly works,
Escaping blunders, escaping our mockery.
We are with fine words, words capture us,
Your vocabulary depends on your cleverness and intelligence,
So concoct the perfect sentences,
Invent the same language that we speak.
poem by Naveed Akram
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I'm with my mom so much that it's like if we go out to eat somewhere, we probably say ten sentences to each other. We're like an old couple. There's nothing that we have to say. It's okay to sit there and just be.
quote by Vincent Kartheiser
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sentences are not as such either true or false.
quote by J.L. Austin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Book Of My Life
Let me watch by the fire and remember my days
And it may be a trick of the firelight
But the flickering pages that trouble my sight
Is a book I'm afraid to write
It's the book of my days, it's the book of my life
And it's cut like a fruit on the blade of a knife
And it's all there to see as the section reveals
There's some sorrow in every life
If it reads like a puzzle, a wandering maze
Then I won't understand 'til the end of my days
I'm still forced to remember,
Remember the words of my life
There are promises broken and promises kept
Angry words that were spoken, when I should have wept
There's a chapter of secrets, and words to confess
If I lose everything that I possess
There's a chapter on loss and a ghost who won't die
There's a chapter on love where the ink's never dry
There are sentences served in a prison I built out of lies.
Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life
There's a chapter on fathers a chapter on sons
There are pages of conflicts that nobody won
And the battles you lost and your bitter defeat,
There's a page where we fail to meet
There are tales of good fortune that couldn't be planned
There's a chapter on god that I don't understand
There's a promise of Heaven and Hell but I'm damned if I see
Though the pages are numbered
I can't see where they lead
For the end is a mystery no-one can read
In the book of my life
Now the daylight's returning
And if one sentence is true
All these pages are burning
And all that's left is you
Though the pages are number
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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