Look at the history of peace accords in Africa. They have a terrible record. They are shredded even before the ink on them is dry.
The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.
I love the smell of book ink in the morning.
A good writer must have more than vin rose in his veins, use more than Chablis for ink.
Apart from the faint odor of ink that pervaded the scene, it might have been real.
The blackest of fluid is used as an agent to enlighten the world.
Don't write with a pen. Ink tends to give the impression the words shouldn't be changed.
Black ink was always my favorite. I loved it. And then one day I realized that the only thing I ever wanted to do was to paint.
I feel like everything great that's beginning to happen in my career started with the 'ink' Paste Magazine gave me!
We have all the freedoms we want. But what we are missing is red ink: the language to articulate our non-freedom. The way we are taught to speak about freedom- war on terror and so on-falsifies freedom.
The most important story we'll ever write in life is our own-not with ink, but with our daily choices.
Zen, on the other hand, is not so dogmatically sterile, though there are certainly traces and more than traces of this austerity. However, with Zen we have not only the void, but the fertile void. The ink lines in a sumi-e painting show this fertility of the void ever ready to brim over into existence.
In 1991, I co-founded my first start-up, Ink Development, which made software for an early tablet computer.
And an equation is the same whether it's written in red or green ink
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.
Maybelline's Precise Ink Pen Liner is by far the easiest liquid eyeliner I've ever used. I'm really bad at applying liquid liner and it glides on so nicely and actually stays on all day.
Never pick a fight with people who buy ink by the barrel.
Why did I write? whose sin to me unknown Dipt me in ink, my parents', or my own? As yet a child, nor yet a fool to fame, I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.
I believe in the rest of the story. I believe there's still ink in the pen. . . . and someday all that's hazy through a clouded glass will be clear at last.
Honey, I plan to marry you the moment the ink is dry on that death certificate.