Quotes about pages

I write for pages,get lost in the mezzaninehidden from stages.

Like Desserts, books come in all kinds of tasty treats!

Stella scribbledin thick black textaacross half the pagesof my best storybook,filled with people who venturedwhere their hearts took them.Beautiful worlds beyond mine.

When left alone with her, I ignored her and kept my eyes on my book, though I confess I turned over more pages than I read.

Like a forgotten old photograph, this dream will stay pressed, between the pages of a book you don’t feel like reading anymore.

Wherever you see an empty life, or an empty page or an empty mind, add something good to it!

But it has often happened that I have found the most seductive depictions of sin in the pages of those very men of incorruptible virtue who condemned their spell and their effects.

On plenty of days the writer can write three or four pages, and on plenty of other days he concludes he must throw them away.

Beginning a novel is always hard. It feels like going nowhere. I always have to write at least 100 pages that go into the trashcan before it finally begins to work. It's discouraging, but necessary to write those pages. I try to consider them pages -100 to zero of the novel.

love was never meant to bejust a metaphorbetween the pages of poetry.

Every story needs some sort of secret that impels it forward. Otherwise why would the reader bother to keep on turning the pages?

I guess you can call me "old fashioned". I prefer the book with the pages that you can actually turn. Sure, I may have to lick the tip of my fingers so that the pages don't stick together when I'm enraptured in a story that I can't wait to get to the next page. But nothing beats the sound that an actual, physical book makes when you first crack it open or the smell of new, fresh printed words on the creamy white paper of a page turner.

Well, this is basically the end, so the answers should be in these next few pages. I doubt they will surprise you, but you never know. I don't know how smart or thick you are. You could be Albert Einstein for all I know, or some literary prizewinner, or maybe you're just middle of the road like me.

Books required no interchanges of thoughts and feelings, no trading of expectations, no traffic of words, no menace of real loss. Reading books required far less energy than reading people; the pages seldom disappointed him and they never died.

IN the book of my heart, pages keep falling out, many of them marked "Mom and Dad.

Know that blank pages feel the urge of the ink as much as tears paint a different pain, changes

Action is the ink that writes what you think on the pages of life!

For if we're destroyed, the knowledge is dead...We're nothing more than dust jackets for books...so many pages to a person...

There is only as much space, only as much time, Only as much desire, only as many words, Only as many pages, only as much ink To accept all of us at light-speed Hurrying into the Promised Land Of oblivion that is waiting for us sooner or later.

Time will tell, I suppose, or at least, these pages will.

The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible

Every face, every shop, bedroom window, public-house, and dark square is a picture feverishly turned--in search of what? It is the same with books. What do we seek through millions of pages?

In any of my pages in any of my books may life a perfect account of my secret experience of the world.

I'm an open book. But some of the pages are stuck together.

Inconveniently, books are all the pages in them, not just the ones you choose to read.

We are living out the drama of a pathetic story whose pages are smeared with our own handwriting.

The pages and the words are my world, spread out before your eyes and for your hand to touch. Vaguely, I can see you face looking down into me, as I look back. Do you see my eyes?

At first, all is black and white.Black on white.That's where I'm walking, through pages.These pages.Sometimes it gets so that I have one foot in the pages and the words, and the other in what they speak of.

Words come alive from a page or script because both the writer and actor were brave enough to neither deny or invent their truth

Wake up to think of words… want to walk through pages of meanings, the links in assonance, alliteration, or just simple sense that moves the eye to leap that way to the next-door play of sound and resonance.

I'm the cover of a book,Whose pages are still being written