Fiction Quotes - Page 11

Most stories are not about people
but about life, an addiction like the rest of them
that destroys you even as you love it,
but you love it anyway and can never get enough.

Her heart was telling her to trust him, but it wouldn’t be the first time that that foolish muscle, there in the middle of her chest, had betrayed her.

Fears can be a healthy thing, they give you something to conquer

Good writing should help us see the world in new ways, it should crack open our generosity towards each other. That's what I hope my work does anyway. I want someone to read it and know that they aren't alone in the universe. I want my words to act as connective tissue.

Hate was the blazing beauty that consumed the world in its flames. Love could never consume anything but the heart of a fool.

Perhaps our suffering is part of our humanity.

Outside of the usual bar or nightclub, it's not every day that I get a drink bought for me-at least not by strangers and certainly not on a workday. On that Saturday, in September 2010, it was from three separate individuals.

I tried to hate you, to forgive you, all just to forget you, but I'm only capable of loving you. You're tattooed onto my skin, and the more I try to erase you, the deeper you sink in.

It was dark, so I couldn't make out much of her face, but she had brilliant red hair, like honey and roses and the sun altogether.

The Adventure called and I followed with my thumb like a character being written by an intractable author. Which, of course, I was.

You two are bound to one another. You always have been … and you can't run away from what you are. No matter where you go, your feelings for her are going to follow you.

Laughter comes from living." I shrug, try to sound indifferent. "I've never really been alive before.

His smile is beautiful. It's the kind of smile that can take away all nervousness and tension in a room, no matter how big. I have no choice but to smile back.

She actually isn't so bad, now that I'm getting to know her. She's just a little messy on the outside. But aren't we all?

Lucy: I don't feel like talking about college. It increases my stress level.

James: And increased stress levels lead to hair loss.

Lucy: My head-hair volume is fine.

James: You say that like I should be concerned about leg-hair volume.

I wasn't writing home. I wasn't writing a death letter, either. I was writing a death journal, a piece of fiction meant for my family and my fiancee, Sara.

Historical fiction of course is particularly research-heavy. The details of everyday life are there to trip you up. Things that we take for granted, indeed, hardly think about, can lead to tremendous mistakes.

Archive material is vital to the writer of historical fiction.

I know a lot of writers, and everyone works differently, but this is something that we truly have in common across all genres - the fiction has to be real inside your head.

I've always felt that good writing does not have to be literary.