Nedda

“But the Greeks and the Romans both believed in the idea of an external daemon of creativity—a sort of house elf, if you will, who lived within the walls of your home and who sometimes aided you in your labors. The Romans had a specific term for that helpful house elf. They called it your genius—your guardian deity, the conduit of your inspiration. Which is to say, the Romans didn’t believe that an exceptionally gifted person was a genius; they believed that an exceptionally gifted person had a genius. It’s a subtle but important distinction (being vs. having) and, I think, it’s a wise psychological construct. The idea of an external genius helps to keep the artist’s ego in check, distancing him somewhat from the burden of taking either full credit or full blame for the outcome of his work. If your work is successful, in other words, you are obliged to thank your external genius for the help, thus holding you back from total narcissism. And if your work fails, it’s not entirely your fault. You can say, “Hey, don’t look at me—my genius didn’t show up today!” Either way, the vulnerable human ego is protected. Protected from the corrupting influence of praise. Protected from the corrosive effects of shame.”
― Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear

“Somewhere in the garden a nightingale was singing, and a little breeze touched her hair and stirred the leaves overhead. All the different bells of the city chimed, once each, this one high, that one low, some close by, others farther off, one cracked and peevish, another grave and sonorous, but agreeing in all their different voices on what the time was, even if some of them got to it a little more slowly than others. In that other Oxford where she and Will had kissed good-bye, the bells would be chiming, too, and a nightingale would be singing, and a little breeze would be stirring the leaves in the Botanic Garden...”
― Philip Pullman

“فلتعتزلهم, وتفكر في أن تجرب متعة العطاء والإسهام في بناء عالم أفضل”
― آية الملواني, تخيل

“انا اعشق مهنتي بل اني اهيم يها و لكن هذا الضغط الرهيب اليومي والتجاهل من الرؤساء يقتل همتي، هل تدرين ماهو ابشع فعل؟ ليس التدمير او القتل بل ان تجعل شخص يكره هوايته التي يتنفس بها”
― علي الماجد, الصقر لا يُحَلّقْ إلا...وحيدا