Nafisa > Nafisa's Quotes

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  • #1
    Anne Lamott
    “Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: they feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It's like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can't stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship.”
    Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird

  • #2
    Annie Dillard
    “I had been my whole life a bell, and never knew it until at that moment I was lifted and struck.”
    Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

  • #3
    Ross Gay
    “Is sorrow the true wild?
    And if it is—and if we join them—your wild to mine—what’s that?
    For joining, too, is a kind of annihilation. What if we joined our sorrows, I’m saying. I’m saying: What if that is joy?”
    Ross Gay, The Book of Delights: Essays

  • #4
    Chinua Achebe
    “Let no one be fooled by the fact that we may write in English, for we intend to do unheard of things with it.”
    Chinua Achebe.

  • #5
    Anita Brookner
    “It was then that I saw the business of writing for what it truly was and is to me. It is your penance for not being lucky. It is an attempt to reach others and to make them love you. It is your instinctive protest, when you find you have no voice at the world's tribunals, and that no one will speak for you. I would give my entire output of words, past, present and to come, in exchange for easier access to the world, for permission to state "I hurt" or " I hate" or " I want". Or indeed, "Look at me". And I do not go back on this. For once a thing is known it can never be unknown. It can only be forgotten. And writing is the enemy of forgetfulness, or thoughtlessness. For the writer there is no oblivion. Only endless memory.”
    Anita Brookner, Look at Me



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