Ashes to Ashes

Words Free Me

[gettingintoknives]

Mary Oliver, from “the fourth sign of the zodiac” published in Blue Horses

[writingforserenity]

I stood with my feet 

Firmly planted in the grass

The wind blew through the trees

Birds chirped from afar

A stray breeze came to lift my hair 

From my shoulders

And I thought private thoughts

“What luxury!”

To think with no one there to comment

No one there to oppose

Or even agree

Just me

My feet in the grass

The thoughts in my head

And then I came here to write about it. 

[weltenwellen]

Mary Oliver, from “Mindful”, Devotions

[hergece-deactivated20200725]

Hiç bitmek bilmeyen şarkılarımsın...

[writingforserenity]

I’m torn between all of my dreams. Every path seems sunlit and lined with roses. But standing at this massive crossroads, I make no progress. Time continues to pass, and the roses are slowly withering, the sunlight softly fading. My heart is screaming, “Pick one! Run!” 

[scuhlly]

The Abbey bookshop, paris

ig: @littlebitsofliterature

[the-bookshop]

Source.

[scriptwriters-network]

Write your first draft with your heart. Rewrite with your head.

Mike Rich (via scriptwriters-network)

[litverve]

Heart, keep very still – or someone will find you out!

Emily Dickinson, letter to Susan Gilbert, April 1852 (via litverve)

[writingforserenity]

If you’re ever wondering when the time to begin writing your story is, it is now. It was moments ago. It was yesterday, it was last month, it was years past. It is now.

[artsnquotes]

Art is about emotion; if art needs to be explained it is no longer art.

Pierre-Auguste Renoir (via wordsnquotes)

[stardust-and-books]

Find a place and make it your own little heaven

[wordsnquotes]

You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering.

Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (via wordsnquotes)

[thequotejournals]

Do you really think you’re the only human being alive who is unforgivably flawed? Who’s been hurt almost to the point of breaking?

Vanessa Diffenbaugh, The Language of Flowers  (via thequotejournals)

[thelovejournals]

They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life…but there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always that one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it always happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of those lovable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable… This is because the individual who embodies your personal definition of love does not really exist. The person is real, and the feelings are real— but you create the context. And context is everything. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.

Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live: 85% of a True Story 

(via thelovejournals)

[writingforserenity]

It’s been a while since I’ve heard my own voice. 

[themotivationjournals]

Until you’re ready to look foolish, you’ll never have the possibility of being great.

M.C. Escher  (via wordsnquotes)