I can't be expected to produce deathless prose in an atmosphere of gloom and eucalyptus.
Gerald DurrellTag: prose atmosphere gloom eucalyptus
The great error consists in supposing that poetry is an unnatural form of language. We should all like to speak poetry at the moment when we truly live, and if we do not speak it, it is because we have an impediment in our speech. It is not song that is the narrow or artificial thing, it is conversation that is a broken and stammering attempt at song. When we see men in a spiritual extravaganza, like Cyrano de Bergerac, speaking in rhyme, it is not our language disguised or distorted, but our language rounded and made whole.
G.K. ChestertonOutside our small safe place flies mystery.
A.S. ByattHe was a compact, clearcut man, with precise features, a lot of very soft black hair, and thoughtful dark brown eyes. He had a look of wariness, which could change when he felt relaxed or happy, which was not often in these difficult days, into a smile of amused friendliness and pleasure which aroused feelings of warmth, and something more, in many women.
A.S. ByattTag: prose characteristics description character-development character-description
Scott could feel the contents of his stomach flip over and over on themselves. He turned to the side and retched, frothy yellow bile spilled out onto the newspaper covered floor, filling the room with the putrid stench of previously ingested alcohol.
'Look's like someone can't hold their drink,' McBlane said, and Dominic and Shugg laughed.
Scott was still staring at the steam rising from his evacuated stomach contents as he heard the hammer fall. The dull crack of bone splintering under its weight.
Tag: murder prose visual-moments
Poetry is more than a form of art. It's a vibration and a pulsing heart. Whether it's sour or whether it's sweet. It can give you strength no one can defeat
Stanley Victor PaskavichTag: life reality poetry writing prose life-philosophy
She would not have cared to confess how infinitely she preferred the exactitude, the star-like impersonality, of figures to the confusion, agitation, and vagueness of the finest prose.
Virginia WoolfTag: literature prose mathematics
I knew it was a day of endings, one way or another.
Chris HowardThe city they are building asks you to stay; remind yourself what is worth keeping, while the lighthouse of your moan warns the ship of your heart that he is a stone.
Mikl PaulTag: poetry prose poetry-quotes
Later when they would mention, they would say, and everyone would know, but not nearly as well as they meant.
Mikl PaulTag: prose prose-poetry
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