in Quotes & Aphorisms (Books)
Nothing written for pay is worth printing. Only what has been written against the market.
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Nothing written for pay is worth printing. Only what has been written against the market.
You can't consume much if you sit still and read books.
The aim of the book is to set a limit to thought, or rather not to thought, but to the expression of thoughts: for in order to be able to set a limit to thought, we should have to find both sides of the limit thinkable (I. E. we should have to be able to think what cannot be thought).
It will therefore only be in language that the limit can be set, and what lies on the other side of the limit will simply be nonsense.
Language gradually varies, and with it fade away the writings of authors who have flourished their allotted time; otherwise, the creative powers of genius would overstock the world, and the mind would be completely bewildered in the endless mazes of literature.
Ink is the great missive weapon in all battles of the learned.
For the first time I am working on a book that is not limited and that will take every bit of experience and thought and feeling that I have.
Books for general reading always smell badly; the odor of common people hangs about them.
I don't believe in the notion that some characters have lives of their own and the author follows after them. The author has to be careful not to force the character to do something that would go against the logic of that character's personality, but the character does not have independence. The character is trapped in the author's hand, in my hand, but he is trapped in a way he does not know he is trapped. The characters are on strings, but the strings are loose; the characters enjoy the illusion of freedom, of independence, but they cannot go where I do not want them to go. When that happens, the author must pull on the string and say to them, I am in charge here.
As a child I scribbled; and my favourite pastime, during the hours given me for recreation, was to "write stories." Still I had a dearer pleasure than this, which was the formation of castles in the air—the indulging in waking dreams—the following up trains of thought, which had for their subject the formation of a succession of imaginary incidents. My dreams were at once more fantastic and agreeable than my writings.
Home is where your books are, they say, but for me it's where my recordings are. I've got more than five thousand of them