To say she is only a woman is to say a violin is a piece of wood with strings, and Dante is mere ink printed on paper.

Memory is more indelible than ink.

Joy, you are my everything. You are everything that matters to me. Tell me that you understand. Tell me that you feel this, too.

I want to drown in all the ink used to write positive things about my clone and how great he is.

These bits of paper are covered with lies. They poison your minds. And so long as they exist, you cannot hope to see the world as it truly is.(…)You turn to them for answers and...

The darkness has ink eyes, and if you stare long enough, you’re going to see it blink black. That’s the moment to start writing.

I am using soybean based ink, which is recyclable.

Stars ink your fingerswith a lexicon of flameblazing rare knowledge.

I am feeling more. I feel everything more. I cannot express it. I can hardly keep track of it all. It is you! All you! Everything!

Lack of courage is what makes big dreams to sit in the ink of the paper instead of them running in the shoes of actions. Without courage, you remain a dreamer!

Brahma and AiravataLong ago in lands of golden sandBrahma turned to Saraswatiand gently kissed her inked hand….

This is the pen that was first used to write down these words. This is history. This happened. Now, go write your own history. But use another pen, because this one’s not only super glued...

This is not one of your fictions where people bleed ink.

The paper is my savior, the pen my blood, to words that shed my world.

Do you trust me?”She could still hear him, through flesh and noise.”I love you!” she shouted.It wasn’t the answer he’d expected or the she’d expected to give. It was the wrong time, the wrong thing...

Had I just made a date with a tatted up bat wielding miscreant?

Best friend is like a pen and we’re the paper. We’ll not complete without their ink

My feet are dense with dance. I move like I’m wearing concrete boots and I’m trying to tread water. If the music is salsa, I may start gargling.

The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.

I guess it’s better to have a chalk smile, than an ink smile. Where chalk changes with the direction of wind, ink stays as a deep stain. Like rain, sun and hail against a fake...

My art is that of the 35mm kind; my poetry is of the lead and ink kind; my happiness is of the product of both; and my legacy is of the story of my soul,...

I don’t have any inkling what to do with all the ink in this digital age. Maybe I’ll write a bunch of love letters to a dead author. Who moved my mayonnaise?

The ink in your pen never reshapes your thoughts, you must replace the ink before the ink can be inked properly.

With different changes but the same plot, sometimes our story has already unfolded. It’s just trapped in the pages of ink and paper. God is waiting in His Word.

It’s not always the easiest thing to be the center of so much spilled ink.

Oil may run out, liquidity may dry up, but as long as ink flows freely, the next chapter of Life will continue to be written.

If a pen can communicate our thoughts, dreams, and emotions and be the voice of our soul, then ink is the medium that carries the message.

The ink in the pen that writes success stories is “FOCUS”…

Don’t shrink your standards, link yourself with those who think and ink like you.

The letter we all love to receive is one that carries so much of the writer’s personality that she seems to be sitting beside us, looking at us directly and talking just as she really...

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

A letter to the beloved is like the ink kissing the paper. (Une lettre à l’aimée, c’est – L’encre embrassant le papier)

Writing ink is the magic that allows nothing to become something. It catches the fleeting idea and seeks out the glances of those who wish to see. Even a random ink splat will mean something...

I wear the universe backwards. I imagine putting stars in my coffee, and sugar in the sky. I imagine going fishing in clouds, and watching the sun hide behind lakes. I’m too busy dancing with...

…there was practically one handwriting common to the whole school when it came to writing lines. It resembled the movements of a fly that had fallen into an ink-pot, and subsequently taken a little brisk...

I plan on leaving my mark on this world, in ink, with a pen spill that’ll make all the oil spills combined look like literature.

Ink, a Drug.

Now relax, think positively and begin — the smile of success awaits you.

A book called Life of Silence would get everyone talking. I should write it, using invisible ink. Or to really make it see-through, I should hire a ghostwriter.

The core of your true self is never lost. Let go of all the pretending and the becoming you’ve done just to belong.Curl up with your rawness and come home. You don’t have to find...

The word love has always tasted like the scent of fresh ink and soft paper to me. Like a newly written poem.

Welcome to Book-a-holic Anonymous.Hi, I’m g-lyn and I addictive to the written word. I love the smell of the blackest ink sliding across lightly texture paper. My eyes squint against the lost of time within...

I don’t want to give too much ink to foolish men.

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...

I wrote you a love letter. I used invisible ink to show I was being transparent with my feelings. And also to hide my feelings.

Love is wind for the soul

…I deliberately spilled the black ink of despair because my perfect soul was a stained glass illusion – can you understand that?…

I love you, Ink, and I want you-only you. Being strong doesn’t mean I don’t want you too. You are the only person who knows every part of my life, every part of me in...

Oh, Narcissus! My heart beats ink for you.A pulse in every line.It’s your eyesmy words want to be read by,your kind of mindthey would be understood by,your heartthey’d be felt by,and then you’d feel the...

The book did not say anything about a statue, valuable or otherwise, and so I stopped reading about the Bombinating Beast and got interested in the chapter about the Stain’d witches, who had ink instead...