¿O se trataba también de un sueño en una vida donde el sueño y la realidad están tan íntimamente ligados que inevitablemente uno acaba por triunfar sobre la otra?
Anne RiceIf only we would wake from (these) states of oblivion with some certain sense that there was no mystery to life at all, that cruelty was purely impersonal, but we don't.
Anne RiceOn writing, my advice is the same to all. If you want to be a writer, write. Write and write and write. If you stop, start again. Save everything that you write. If you feel blocked, write through it until you feel your creative juices flowing again. Write. Writing is what makes a writer, nothing more and nothing less. --- Ignore
critics. Critics are a dime a dozen. Anybody can be a critic. Writers are priceless. ---- Go where the pleasure is in your writing. Go where the pain is. Write the book you would like to read. Write the book you have been trying to find but have not found. But write. And remember, there are no rules for our profession. Ignore rules. Ignore what I say here if it doesn't help you. Do it your own way.
--- Every writer knows fear and discouragement. Just write. --- The world is crying for new writing. It is crying for fresh and original voices and new characters and new stories. If you won't write the classics of tomorrow, well, we will not have any. Good luck.
Tags: writing
Suppose death had a heart to love and to release you, to whom would he turn this passion, would you chose a person from the crowd there. A person to suffer as you suffer.
Anne RiceThe Cardinal was bent over his writing desk, the room unchanged save for the light of what appeared a small antique oil lamp. And there were illuminated letters in the book before him, tiny figures fitted into the capitals, the whole gleaming as he let his hand, quivering, turn the page.
"Ah, think of it," he said, smiling as he saw Tonio, "written language the possession of those who took such pains to preserve it. I am forever entranced with the forms in which knowledge is given us, not by nature, but by our fellow man.
Tags: anne-rice cry-to-heaven tonio-treschi
He was so rapt in his thoughts that he did not hear anything much that Guido was saying, that lovely bubbling speech of Guido's when he was at last content.
Tonio allowed it to pass over him, and now and then he would give a little gracious nod.
Tags: anne-rice cry-to-heaven tonio-treschi guido-maffeo
Go where the pain is, go where the pleasure is.
Anne RiceTags: pain writing pleasure writing-advice anne-rice
Desire radiated from him. It radiated out into the darkness and seemed to find the four walls of this enclosing place, and he turned around waiting, waiting.
"Love you?" came Guido's voice. It was so low Tonio strained forward, as if yearning for it. "Love you?"
Yes..."Tonio answered.
"I am in a hell of desire for you! Have you never guessed? Have you never looked beneath the coldness? Are you so blind to this suffering? In all my life I have never wooed and suffered as I have over you. But there is love and love, and I am spent trying to separate the one from the other..."
"Dont' separate them!" Tonio whispered. And he reached out like a child, grasping for what he wanted. "Give it to me! Where are you? Maestro, where are you?"
There seemed a rush of air, a soft shuffling of garments and steps, and he felt the near smarting touch of Guido's hands hands that in the past had only struck him, and then those arms enclosing him. And in this moment, he understood everything.
But that was but the last glimmer of thought, and he knew just how it had been and how it would be, and he felt Guido's chest, and then Guido's mouth tore at him.
Tags: anne-rice cry-to-heaven guido-maffeo-tonio-treschi
Domenico appeared to lie against the door, and in the shadowy dark, his face was luminous and delicate. When he smiled the hollows of his cheeks deepened, the light played more beautifully on the bones, and when he spoke, it was that of a woman's voice again, husky and stroking.
"Don't be afraid if him." he whispered.
Tonio realized he had taken a step backwards. His heart was making a tumult inside of him.
"Afraid of whom?" he asked. "Lorenzo, of course," said the roughened velvet voice. "I won't let him do anything to do."
"Don't come any closer!" Tonio said sharply. Again he took a step backwards,
But Domenico only smiled, his head falling a little to the left so that the white powdered curls spilled over his shoulder onto that flaring breast.
"You mean I am the one you're afraid of?" Tonio looked away in confusion. "I have to leave here," he said.
Domenico let out a long beguiling breath. And then suddenly he put his arms around Tonio; he pressed the soft ruffles of his breast against Tonio. Tonio stumbled back and found himself against the mirror, the candles flickering on either side of him. He reached back for the glass, his hands down, to get his balance.
"You are afraid of me," Domenico whispered. "I don't know what you want!" Tonio said.
"Ah, but I know what you want. Why are you afraid to take it?"
Tonio was going to shake his head but he stopped, staring into Domenico's eyes. It was inconceivable that anything of a man existed under this froth, this magic. And when he saw the lips moist and parting and drawing near to him, he shut his eyes, straining away. Surely he could knock this creature to the floor with one blow, and yet he was shrinking back as if he might be burned here!
Tags: anne-rice cry-to-heaven tonio-treschi guido-maffeo
Put out the light and then put out the light.
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