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If I am a rib, let me be the one closest to your heart– synchrony was the only calligraphy they had in Eden. I follow you around with my pen tip wet, like a cat stalks little flying things and bits of Styrofoam.

I desperately need to restore harmony in my life, to find balance again between the inner and the outer, the visible and the invisible. The writing doesn’t seem to be coming from me as much as through me, almost in spite of me.

Sarah B. Breathnach • Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort & Joy

As you can see, at my best I’m a freak with wit and substance

- Notes of a Crocodile by Qiu Miaojin

She Walks in Beauty

Siri Mitchell

amazon.com

in order to live this way—free to create, free to explore—you must possess a fierce sense of personal entitlement, which I hope you will learn to cultivate. I recognize that the word entitlement has dreadfully negative connotations, but I’d like to appropriate it here and put it to good use, because you will never be able to create anything interes

Elizabeth Gilbert • Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

"That thing that sets your heart on fire, that thing which seems like to be around it would be so heart opening that you don't know if you could even survive it, do that thing first. Don't delay, its not too late. Do that thing, be with those people, learn that learning, listen to those words, be that being. Don't wait twenty years. Do it now. Don'... See more

I feel sorry for beautiful people. Beauty, from the moment you possess it, is already slipping away, ephemeral. That must be difficult. Always having to prove that there’s more to you, wanting people to see beneath the surface, to be loved for yourself, and not your stunning body, sparkling eyes or thick, lustrous hair.

Gail Honeyman • Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine: Debut Sunday Times Bestseller and Costa First Novel Book Award winner

phase de ma maladie. À l’automne 2007, il y avait une année que mon premier livre était paru et je n’avais pas encore écrit la moindre ligne du suivant. Lorsqu’il n’y eut plus de lettres à classer, que dans les lieux publics on ne me reconnaissait plus et que, dans les grandes librairies de Broadway, les affiches à mon effigie avaient disparu, je c