Life is hell, but at least there are prizes. Or so one thought.
Janet FrameTags: life
Language, at least, may give up the secrets of life and death, leading us through the maze to the original Word as monster or angel, to the mournful place where we may meet Job and hear his cry, 'How long will you vex my soul and break me in pieces with words?
Janet FrameWriting a novel is not merely going on a shopping expedition across the border to an unreal land: it is hours and years spent in the factories, the streets, the cathedrals of the imagination.
Janet FrameTags: imagination inspirational writing novel
Timmy, who made a daring escape, also made a mistake of paying the taxi driver with a check made out of toilet paper.
Janet FrameTags: writing
So we went to bed, assaulted by sleep that fumed at us from medicine glasses, or was wielded from small sweet-coated tablets -- dainty bricks of dream wrapped in the silk stockings of oblivion.
Janet FrameTags: writing
...we could think or feel as we wished toward the characters, or as the poet, discounting history, invited us to; we were the poet's guest, his world was his own kingdom, reached, as one of the poems told us, through the 'Ring of Words'...
Janet FrameTags: reading writing world-building
I don't want to inhabit the human world under false pretenses.
Janet FrameTags: identity self-knowledge
Life is hell, but there are prizes.
Janet FrameBut it is imperative, for our own survival, that we avoiid one another, and what more successful means of avoidance are there than words? Language will keep us safe from human onslaught, will express for us our regret at being unable to supply groceries or love or peace.
Janet Frame...there must be an inviolate place where the choices and decisions, however imperfect, are the writer's own, where the decision must be as individual and solitary as birth or death.
Janet FrameTags: writing
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