Quotes about muse

Everything about you is how I wanna be Your freedom comes naturally Everything about you resonates happinessNow I won't settle for less...

Never fails. Every new book I write seems impossible, writes like I'm typing from dictation, edits like I didn't write it, and finishes like I couldn't possibly have written it.

Discipline, not the Muse, results in productivity. If you write only when she beckons, your writing is not yours at all.

Never wait for your muse. Train him/her to show up to work when you do by pushing on. It's a dominant submission thing.

I get a kick out of cursing people for life on Sundays.

And tonight the stars again ask me your name?And I just smile, playing the guessing game!

A smile, like the poet's muse,Inspires passion in the lover's heart

...I worship at the temple of your body and without you, I'd have no art...

Throughout her life, she behaved as if she had never heard anyone suggest that a woman couldn't do entirely as she pleased.

Laughing in my ear is a muse amused by how I paint her whims on paper with silly words.

Muse’s creations are predominately lyrical often resulting in poetic sonnets and fairytale like art.

...at morning, I'm unruffled - I'll sit with my tea and Muse Cat beside me and listen to the soft chime of the grandfather clock...

You should be more carefulwhen you move, my dearwhat with you...spilling moonlightinto my poem, with a mereflick of your hand.

some poems frothand foam and rise...out of my morning cup ofmist-sweetened coffee.

when i write of you, my deari am holding youin the most exquisiteways.

You came into my life like the rain to the parched desert!

I am no writer. Her sparkling eyes made my fingers write words in the sand, Her radiant smile made my pen write words in the air. Her beautiful soul made my typewriter type poems for eternity. I am no writer.

...If I ever got sloppy and maudlin, it would be for the streets of my childhood—but no self- respecting writer should ever eulogize a slum...

I’ve long considered becoming a writer to be the death of nightmares. For me at least, since I started writing I hadn’t had any. Something really terrible or awful happens in a dream and you wake up and think, awesome, and reach for a pen and paper.

Early in her career, Muse engaged her skills for technical purposes, such as document translation and schematic visualizations for government entities. She continued to write and paint poetically, in secret, using her pen name, Muse. An inner compass is evident in her work. Pieces reflect both past and present dilemmas; while showcasing her victories in overcoming these obstacles ~ all from her faith based perspective. Light touches of modernism play hand in hand with old world strokes, offering

Women are our most miraculous muse, an enchanted intangibility that encourages all art.

I am my own muse, the subject I know best.

The genius of vinyl is that it allows - commands! - us to put our fingerprints all over that history: to blend and chop and reconfigure it, mock and muse upon it, backspin and skip through it.

The Muse herself makes some men inspired, from whom a chain of other men is strung out who catch their own inspiration from theirs.

Great ideas emerges from useless fragments of thoughts.

If you schlep a shit job everyday, keep and feed a little secret life--whether it's writing, art, running, music, your thoughts. It's yours.

People are dying out there, and I’m not faring much better.”“Worrying about the demise of anonymous people won’t bring them back.”Pursing my lips, I planted a hand on a hip. “How very demon of you.”“Thank you.”“That wasn’t a compliment.”~ Muse & Akil

Akil, humans have these wonderful little things we like to cling onto, called souls. The jury’s still out as to whether demons have them, I sincerely doubt you do." ~ Muse.

Stop waiting for creative inspiration. Start creating and inspire yourself along the way.

Your muse ain't singin' on your MTV? Can't even see him on your HD TV?

The real comic muse is the one underwhose laughing mask tears roll down.

Life is the muse which perfectly rhymes,Plays with the words and fills empty lines.For some, life is battle for others, it’s danceFor rich it is a party for the poor it is chance.For lovers, it’s dizziness, it’s a dream, it’s romanceFor Artist it’s drop of the rain on his hands.For a writer, it’s a story for an actor it’s stageFor painter it’s a canvas for thief, it’s the cage.For you it might be the money you blewFor someone the entire life could be you!

Did you know that Bharatiyar used the pen name “Shelley-dasan”? He admired the poems of Shelley so deeply that he wrote under the name “Shelley’s servant”. Wasn’t that a wonderful gesture of humility by someonewho was such a great poet himself? And later, Bharatiyar had his own dasan, the poet Subburathinam, who tookthe pen name Bharathidasan. Subburathinam’s poetry inspired yet another poet who wrote as Surada, short for Subburathina-dasan. And to think this long chain of inspiration spans cent

There is a muse, but he’s not going to come fluttering down into your writing room and scatter creative fairy-dust all over your typewriter or computer station. He lives in the ground. He’s a basement guy. You have to descend to his level, and once you get down there you have to furnish an apartment for him to live in. You have to do all the grunt labor, in other words, while the muse sits and smokes cigars and admires his bowling trophies and pretends to ignore you.

Beat me, hurt me, fight me and I’ll bounce back, but be nice to me? I folded quicker than a banker in a high-stakes poker game.

Being human was a lot more difficult than it looked. Demon was easy. Demon was simple. Human was…terrifying." Muse

Sometimes, when you sleep with the enemy, waking up is the hardest part." ~ Muse

Speaking Akil’s name around Stefan felt like throwing gasoline on a bushfire." ~ Muse

If you hurt Muse, I will hunt you down, use every rusted weapon I own, cut off your precious parts and feed them to the hellhounds." Ryder

I have not lived for millennia to be bested by a half-blood whore and her puppet prince." ~ Valenti

I curled my lip at the sight of sizzling human hair and skin clinging to my demon flesh. Damn, I’d have given anything to be back in Boston, sipping chai tea latte." ~ Muse, Ties That Bind, #5 The Veil Series.

Sometimes there is no right thing. Sometimes wrong wins, and that's okay. Life doesn't have cooker-cutters for right and wrong, Ryder. There's that messy gray area in between, and I sure hope I'm not the one staring down the barrel of your gun when you figure that out." Muse ~ Darkest Before Dawn. #3 The Veil Series

I'm just a wretched half-blood girl caught in a storm."Akil tasted his wine and smiled. "Muse, you are the storm.

When demons call you the Mother of Destruction, sh*t gets real." Muse.

Half demon, half human, wholly f*cked." ~ Muse

The lust for chaos wrenched reason from my mind. She wanted the power I’d called before. She wanted to burn it all; to slice open the veil and summon the fires of hell to dance for her. She burned for it, and so did I." ~ Muse

Get off that damn chair and pull yourself together. You're supposed to be an ageless creature of chaos and all I'm getting right now is sulking city boy.

Fighting demons is what I do; real, and those in my head.

Flora was in that state where the spirit may be willing but the flesh is weak and wishes to go on holiday - and where the flesh in most cases wins hands down with a packed suitcase. It did so now. So she did what many a researcher both great and insignificant does when they are stuck. She yawned while contemplating how to catch the Muse by surprising Her. Almost invariably, the Muse has seen it all before - and also yawns.

Never durst a poet touch a pen to writeUntil his ink was tempered with love's sighs.

...you do violence with your words if you force them - art is given - the words received, moment by moment from unseen hands - call it a Muse ...

In her inestimable audacity, Julia was the catalyst in my life for something beautiful. I hadn't anticipated her—hadn't even wanted her, truthfully—but there she was. A little something extra that made all the difference in the world.

It can pay off, being a hack. Given the depraved state of American culture, a slick dude can make millions being a hack. But even if you succeed, you lose, because you've sold out your Muse, and your Muse is you, the best part of yourself, where your finest and only true work comes from.

my poetry is merely a body.you are the soul in my words.

How....will I ever truly depict you?You’re perfect, my writing isn’t.

The muse is the mystic force, but you are the master.

...you want things to remain the same, which they never can, and so you’re wounded by your own feelings & resentful others don’t seem to care...

And muse on Nature with a poet's eye.

I am my own muse. I am the subject I know best. The subject I want to know better.

It ain't so easy writing about nothin

I am a creature of the Fey Prepare to give your soul away My spell is passion and it is art My song can bind a human heart And if you chance to know my face My hold shall be your last embrace. I shall be thy lover... I am unlike a mortal lass From dreams of longing I have passed I came upon your lonely cries Revealed beauty to your eyes So shun the world that you have known And spend your nights within my own. I shall be thy lover... You shall be known by other men For your great works of voice

No connection can ever be broken if love holds tight at both ends.

Starlight beats when heart twinklesYouthful sky beyond cloudy wrinklesMuse of glory to flame the nightVerse inscribed as written light

Musicians do not get on stage without hearing the song singing inside of them. Poets do not write as if they are jotting down a sermon, they see everything in their subconscious before presenting it to the conscious, which they later turn to  readable materials. Artist do not draw and paint without painting in dream states, trance, or see an art form that others do not see. Being creative does not calls for being any supernatural entity, but in creating with the entities inside of you.

Everything about you resonates happinessNo I won't settle for less

He'd failed them, the swimming goldfish of his life's tiny existence whom he held so dear in his heart; he'd turned his muses into mistakes and no one knew the difference but him.

To see her is to be seduced by her.

Sometimes he does talk back, but sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he’s not there; and from time to time I believe this was all nothing but imaginary.

She was in awe of all his work. 'How do you do it?" she asked.He smiled and said, 'By loving you.

To fall in love with pain is to fall in love with art.

Masochists hold on to broken people. Artists hold on to broken memories.

One must give himself completely to his art and not hold back. Throw caution to the wind. Embrace the muse. Make love to your art.

The muses are ghosts, and sometimes they come uninvited.

There is no place for grief in a house which serves the Muse.

I had to revise all my feelings once again. I pulled out the dregs of affection from the glass of misunderstanding to rebuild my faith. I had to reinvent the cause for love, as it were. It was something I had to draw inside me, a real portrait of her, not just the inspiration but the girl as a whole, with all her shortcomings to be able to love her again.

You resting your head tenderly on my shoulders while we sit below the old Oak tree. And we smile at each other and gaze lovingly at the fascinating sunset over the hills. This moment makes me feel completely alive as if we have reached not just cloud nine or ten but also cloud infinity!

NO MUSE IS GOOD MUSETo be an Artist you need talent, as well as a wifewho washes the socks and the children,and returns phone calls and library books and types.In other words, the reason there are so many moreMen Geniuses than Women Geniuses is not Genius.It is because Hemingway never joined the P.T.A.And Arthur Rubinstein ignored Halloween.Do you think Portnoy's creator sits through children's theatermatinees--on Saturdays?Or that Norman Mailer faced 'driver's ed' failure,chicken pox or chipped

i writebecauseit is the only wayi can reach you.

Unrequited love is the infinite curse of a lonely heart.

There is also a third kind of madness, which is possession by the Muses, enters into a delicate and virgin soul, and there inspiring frenzy, awakens lyric....But he, who, not being inspired and having no touch of madness in his soul, comes to the door and thinks he will get into the temple by the help of art--he, I say, and his poetry are not admitted; the sane man is nowhere at all when he enters into rivalry with the madman.

She was remembering His gaze, those deep pools of blue, crystalline in nature, peering deep into her soul. She remembered the first night she had looked into that darkness – no, into that light in his eyes – they were level and straight, kind and compassionate, without any ado, Her hands in His, offerings of comfort and concern for Her station, the concern she felt for those close to Her, each to their own heaven or hell, and the law of attraction began to build.

To feed your Muse, then, you should always have been hungry about life since you were a child. If not, it is a little late to start.

If I ever saw my muse she would be an old woman with a tight bun and spectacles poking me in the middle of the back and growling, "Wake up and write the book!

This is the other secret that real artists know and wannabe writers don’t. When we sit down each day and do our work, power concentrates around us. The Muse takes note of our dedication. She approves. We have earned favor in her sight. When we sit down and work, we become like a magnetized rod that attracts iron filings. Ideas come. Insights accrete.

The ‘Muse’ is not an artistic mystery, but a mathematical equation. The gift are those ideas you think of as you drift to sleep. The giver is that one you think of when you first awake.

Writing is the best anti-depressant.

If only thy eyes flutter once, the bees lose their direction and the fighting men their aim!

We are servants of the Mystery. We were put here on earth to act as agents of the Infinite, to bring into existence that which is not yet, but which will be, through us. Every breath we take, every heartbeat, every evolution of every cell comes from God and is sustained by God every second, just as every creation, invention, every bar of music or line of verse, every thought, vision, fantasy, every dumb-ass flop and stroke of genius comes from that infinite intelligence that created us and the u

All of us need to be in touch with a mysterious, tantalizing source of inspiration that teases our sense of wonder and goads us on to life’s next adventure.

Inspiration is the windfall from hard work and focus. Muses are too unreliable to keep on the payroll.

Audrey, if you had the choice, would you rather be his muse or be in his arms?" "I want to be both. I know it's the exception rather than the rule, but I can't hepl what I want.

You have that faraway look in your eyes that makes me want to pull you into my dreams, bring you to your knees worshiping me - desperately. You, the nectar and the muse of my poetry.

There’s nothing worse than being violently jerked away from creativity.

He always thought a muse should be sex on legs.

Forcing the muse to let thoughts flow; equals to pushing a child, into labor.

For too many centuries women have been being muses to artists. I wanted to be the muse, I wanted to be the wife of the artist, but I was really trying to avoid the final issue — that I had to do the job myself.

I'm not a concept. Too many guys think I'm a concept or I complete them or I'm going to 'make them alive'…but I'm just a fucked up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours.

A sacrifice is not about expecting God to break the bond you have with another person. You make the sacrifice on your own because God is more important than the bond.

Often the Muse will not respond to direct and logical requests. She must be lured in with the playful and gentle.