1
" You teach me now how cruel you've been - cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart, Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they'll blight you - they'll damn you. You loved me - what right had you to leave me? What right - answer me - for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery, and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will did it. I have no broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you - Oh, God! would you like to lie with your soul in the grave? "
― Emily Brontë , Wuthering Heights
9
" Don’t write with a pen. Ink tends to give the impression the words shouldn’t be changed.
Write with what gives you the most sensual satisfaction.
Write in a hard-covered notebook with green lined pages. Green is easy on the eyes. Blank white pages seems to challenge you to create the world before you start writing. It may be true that you, the modern poet, must make the world as you go, but why be reminded of it before you even have one word on the page?
Don’t erase. Cross out rapidly and violently, never with slow consideration if you can help it.
Start, as some smarty once said, in the middle of things.
Play with syntax.
Never want to say anything so strongly that you have to give up the option of finding something better – if you have to say it, you will.
Read your poem aloud many times. If you don’t enjoy it every time, something may be wrong.
If you ask a question, don’t answer it, or answer a question not asked, or defer. (If you can answer the question, to ask it is to waste time).
Maximum sentence length: seventeen words.
Minimum: One.
Don’t be afraid to take emotional possession of words. If you don’t love a few words enough to own them, you will have to be very clever to write a good poem. "
― Richard Hugo , The Triggering Town: Lectures and Essays on Poetry and Writing
15
" Did I know myself less, I might perhaps venture to handle something or other to the bottom, and to be deceived in my own inability; but sprinkling here one word and there another, patterns cut from several
pieces and scattered without design and without engaging myself too far, I am not responsible for them, or obliged to keep close to my subject, without varying at my own liberty and pleasure, and giving up myself to doubt and uncertainty, and to my
own governing method, ignorance. "
― Michel de Montaigne , The Complete Essays
18
" It’s not like you have anything to lose anymore.”
My fingers stop at my thumb ring while Sienna’s words echo in my head. Do I have anything to lose? I mean, after all I did, everything I fought against.
I slowly turn the ring on my thumb. This simple band has, like all of my rings, one word engraved on it.
Will anything change if I go to him? After all, I did lose everything that is important.
It’s funny, actually, after the months I spent pushing him away. I thought, like the silly girl I probably am, that if I didn’t give myself to him, I’d be safe, that as long as I didn’t sleep with him, I wouldn’t lose my heart. Shouldn’t I have this one last memory to take home with me?
So lost…I came here lost and I’ll go home lost. How convenient, and so utterly pathetic I want to give myself one strong shake to snap out of this. "
― Anna B. Doe , Lost & Found: Anabel & William #1 (New York Knights, #1)