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1 " Since we must and do write each our own way, we may during actual writing get more lasting instruction not from another's work, whatever its blessings, however better it is than ours, but from our own poor scratched-over pages. For these we can hold up to life. That is, we are born with a mind and heart to hold each page up to, and to ask: is it valid? "
― Eudora Welty , On Writing
2 " This was the time when all we could talk about was sentences, sentences—nothing else stirred us. Whatever happened in those days, whatever befell our regard, Clea and I couldn’t rest until it had been converted into what we told ourselves were astonishingly unprecedented and charming sentences: “Esther’s cleavage is something to be noticed” or “You can’t have a contemporary prison without contemporary furniture” or “I envision an art which will make criticism itself seem like a cognitive symptom, one which its sufferers define to themselves as taste but is in fact nothing of the sort” or “I said I want my eggs scrambled not destroyed.”At the explosion of such a sequence from our green young lips, we’d rashly scribble it on the wall of our apartment with a filthy wax pencil, or type it twenty-five times on the same sheet of paper and then photocopy the paper twenty-five times and then slice each page into twenty-five slices on the paper cutter in the photocopy shop and then scatter the resultant six hundred and twenty-five slips of paper throughout the streets of our city, fortunes without cookies. "
― Jonathan Lethem
3 " Before he had lost his sight, the maester had loved books as much as Samwell Tarly did. He understood the way that you could sometimes fall right into them, as if each page was a hole into another world. "
― George R.R. Martin , A Feast for Crows (A Song of Ice and Fire, #4)
4 " Lucy happily settled down to work. First she sent for papyrus and handmade a book leaf by leaf, binding the leaves together between board covers. Then she filled each page from memory, drew English roses budding and Chinese roses in full bloom, peppercorn-pink Bourbon roses climbing walls and silvery musk roses drowsing in flowerbeds. She took every rose she'd ever seen, made them as lifelike as she could (where she shaded each petal the rough paper turned silken), and in these lasting forms she offered them to Safiye. "
― Helen Oyeyemi , What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours
5 " The scribbles in my notebook are a reflection of you. Every line holds your name. Every paragraph a feature of yours I love. Each page is a memory of moments that took my breath away. Of times when I laughed more than my lungs would allow. My notebook is full, but I always knew only one would hardly contain all of you. "
6 " Reiko had not kept a diary and was now denied the pleasure of assiduously rereading her record of the happiness of the past few months and consigning each page to the fire as she did so.- Death in Midsummer and Other Stories "
― Yukio Mishima , Patriotism
7 " To write a good book, you must read one book for each page of the book you are about to write. "
― M.F. Moonzajer , LOVE, HATRED AND MADNESS
8 " I am a lifelong lover of form–content interplay, and this book is no exception. As with several of my previous books, I have had the chance to typeset it down to the finest level of detail, and my quest for visual elegance on each page has had countless repercussions on how I phrase my ideas. To some this may sound like the tail wagging the dog, but I think that attention to form improves anyone’s writing. I hope that reading this book not only is stimulating intellectually but also is a pleasant visual experience. "
― Douglas R. Hofstadter
9 " Issib wasn't thrilled to see him. I'm busy and don't need interruptions." " This is the household library," said Nafai. " This is where we always come to do research." " See? You're interrupting already." " Look, I didn't say anything, I just came in here, and you started picking at me the second I walked in the door." " I was hoping you'd walk back out." " I can't. Mother sent me here." Nafai walked over behind Issib, who was floating comfortably in the air in front of his computer display. It was layered thirty pages deep, but each page had only a few words on it, so he could see almost everything at once. Like a game of solitaire, in which Issib was simply moving fragments from place to place. The fragments were all words in weird languages. The ones Nafai recognized were very old. " What language is that?" Nafai asked pointing, to one. Issib signed. " I'm so glad you're not interrupting me." " What is it, some ancient form of Vijati?" " Very good. It's Slucajan, which came from Obilazati, the original form of Vijati. It's dead now." " I read Vijati, you know." " I don't." " Oh, so you're specializing in ancient, obscure languages that nobody speaks anymore, including you?" " I'm not learning these languages, I'm researching lost words." " If the whole language is dead, then all the words are lost." " Words that used to have meanings, but that died out or survived only in idiomatic expressions. Like 'dancing bear.' What's a bear, do you know?" " I don't know. I always thought it was some kind of graceful bird." " Wrong. It's an ancient mammal. Known only on Earth, I think, and not brought here. Or it died out soon. It was bigger than a man, very powerful. A predator." " And it danced?" " The expression used to mean something absurdly clumsy. Like a dog walking on its hind legs." " And now it means the opposite. That's weird. How could it change?" " Because there aren't any bears. THe meaning used to be obvious, because everybody knew a bear and how clumsy it would look, dancing. But when the bears were gone, the meaning could go anywhere. Now we use it for a person who's extremely deft in getting out of an embarrassing social situation. It's the only case that we use the word bear anymore. And you see a lot of people misspelling it, too." " Great stuff. You doing a linguistics project?" " No." " What's this for, then?" " Me." " Just collection old idioms?" " Lost words." " Like bear? The word isn't lost, Issya. It's the bears that are gone." " Very good, Nyef. You get full credit for the assignment. Go away now. "
10 " A book written within, contains ideas and thoughts from all over, where each page explains itself. "
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