You could write your way into happiness. It might not be the happiness you’d experience if Eldric pushed Leanne from a cliff, but there’s a firefly glimmer in writing something that would please Rose.

Tragedy often gives birth to courage, it offers man a platform to change what will be.”Eli Storm, Emanuel Stone And The Phoenix Shadow

Funny. You like it when I scream? Yet you cover my mouth!” I laughed then winced.

Me han dicho —a modo de crítica— que vivo en la luna. Les he dicho —a modo de crítica— que viven en la Tierra.

You might think of the barrier between fiction and reality as being a bit like a blood-brain barrier, which allows only some kinds of molecules to pass from the bloodstream into the brain. Emotions can...

Heralds don’t sing about men who lived in orthodoxy or played it safe, they sing about men who lived an uncertain future and took enough risks to make your head spin.

Love, is an unknown passion, for an unknown person, for an unknown reason.

Stories, whether they’re good or bad, are expressions of interactions within society. Some may be seen as ‘boring’, but in their own right, they are still stories to explored. People throughout life have more exciting...

But just then, for that fraction of time, it seems as though all things are possible. You can look across the limitations of your own life, and see that they are really nothing. In that...

Dialogue in fiction should be reserved for the culminating moments and regarded as the spray into which the great wave of narrative breaks in curving toward the watcher on the shore.

A man [Joyce] whose earliest stories appeared next to the manure prices in the Irish Homestead knew that columns of prose, like columns of shit, could both recultivate the earth.

Have you lost your mind? What have I told you Charlie about whales? You can’t MANHANDLE THEM!

Why do I feel like this is our destiny. There must be a reason why we have become our characters.

No. No, I don’t believe you’d betray me with her. I don’t believe you’d cheat on me. But I’m afraid, and I’m sick in my heart that you might look at her, then at me....

I never take out clients. It’s bad policy.” He looked me straight in the eyes as he said it. Reaching across for the glove compartment, his arm accidentally brushed my leg.

We don’t suffer from a shortage of metaphors, is what I mean. But you have to be careful which metaphor you choose, because it matters.

Across his forehead was stamped the word WORTHLESS. How ironic. Exactly what someone might find stamped on his own forehead if they could see it. Physician, heal thyself.

Man determines to dictate your turn, but God determines your time. It was Saul’s turn, but it was David’s time. Don’t wait for your turn, wait for your time.

Fiction that responds to recent world events is a hostage to fortune, because all momentous events look very different a year, two years, three years later.

I’m a reader who uses fiction as a way of worrying about life.

With out freedom nothing has value, Free agency is the only true key to happiness.

Shaw Centre has restaurants on the fourth floor, where the ACS boy can pull chairs out for her. Girls love this because no one else does it for them, especially not those sotong RI boys.

… the greatest mystery, the greatest wonder of creation is that we are capable of both relentless reason and boundless love … It is not about what we are, but what we can become.– Govinda...

If a lioness spends her hours pacing back and forth in a cage of gold with the finest meats at her disposal, does that make her any less of a prisoner? If that same feline’s...

real” world in a fresh and truth-bearing light.

Are you having a seizure or something?” she jested, displaying a rare vein of humor.Egnatious sent her a queasy glare.

Pero la realidad, la auténtica realidad, siempre es invisible

I’m not myself,” she offered, guiltily. She softened around Tik Tok, and when she did she was, for those rare moments, girlish.He smiled. “You can never say that. You’re just a piece of yourself right...

… it would even be inexact to say that I thought of those who read it as readers of my book. Because they were not, as I saw it, my readers. More exactly they were...

The truth is that we all live by leaving behind; no doubt we all profoundly know that we are immortal and that sooner or later every man will do all things and know everything.

I don’t judge or believe in any religion, I’m just learning from their divine esoteric stories.

I would not have majored in English and gone on to teach literature had I not been able to construct a counterargument about the truthfulness of fiction; still, as writers turn away from the industrious...

We all love after-the-bomb stories. If we didn’t, why would there be so many of them? There’s something attractive about all those people being gone, about wandering in a depopulated world, scrounging cans of Campbell’s...

As girls, we will do anything for the person whom we love. We will scale buildings in the rain or run through fire if it means saving our love’s life. There is absolutely nothing more...

The magic and the danger of fiction is this: it allows us to see through other eyes. It takes us to places we have never been, allows us to care about, worry about, laugh with,...

In French culture, the best way of buying time or getting off the hook entirely in a thorny personal situation is to claim that it’s complicated. The French did not invent love, but they did...

But a slow, deeply satisfied smile came over him, and his breath quickened. ‘So softly it starts,’ he whispered. ‘Foolishly clever and with an unsurvivable trust. It just saved your miserable life, that questionable show...

There is no society that does not highly value fictional storytelling. Ever.

That thought probably has occurred to Socrates too.

The sight of her made him understand why he’d lost his faith in God.

I did not want to set my world alight, to watch it burn because of the sister I had come to love too much.

But I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t help the way I felt as I recalled the bliss and rush of a vampire’s bite.

He’d used the amulet to read my thoughts again. I pictured smacking him in the face.

The flimsy little protestations that mark the front gate of every novel, the solemn statements that any resemblance to real persons living or dead is entirely coincidental, are fraudulent every time. A writer has no...

A fiction writer weaves a fabric of lies in hopes of revealing deeper human truths.

Truth has a resonance to it that fills the cracks where falsehoods lie.

Would the man in the cabin have come after them? Would he have sent someone else? Or would he have never even known they were there and they could have just gone back to normal...

If reality is as equally valuable as fiction, then you should just chalk up the parts of the past you don’t need to your imagination

It’s a very private moment when your heart breaks. I was thankful we were alone. I knew I couldn’t keep her, but I would always do anything to protect her.

Fiction inhabits the zone between the real and the impossible. The tug of those two poles is what gives it motion, vitality. Tethering fiction too tightly to the real produces plodding, lifeless stories. Letting it...