The hand of bone and sinew and flesh achieves its immortality in taking up a pen. The hand on a page wields a greater power than the fleshly hand ever could in life.
A blank page of paper and a pen is the greatest invention its so exciting to be confronted by possibility.
You've seen the first issue and what happened in the last page. Some pretty awful stuff. I don't know why I seem to be very good at drawing it!
The short story packs a self in a few pages predicating a lifetime
Do you know anything that in all its innocence is more humiliating than the funny pages of a Sunday newspaper in America?
There can be no doubt that Samuel Marchbanks is one of the choice and master spirits of this age. If there were such a volume as Who Really Ought To Be Who his entry would require several pages.
Learning is often spoken of as if we are watching the open pages of all the books which we have ever read, and then, when occasion arises, we select the right page to read aloud to the universe.
The disciple of Jesus is not the deluxe or heavy-duty model of the Christian-especially padded, textured, streamlined, and empowered for the fast lane on the straight and narrow way. He stands on the pages of the New Testament as the first level of basic transportation in the kingdom of God.
It's very difficult sometimes having bands, you know, when all the members aren't on the same page.
We create an interior 'movie' in the reader's head through words on the page.
All I've ever really done is page 3 in The Sun, and not every man reads that.
I turned the pages so fast. And I suppose I was, in my mindless way, looking for a something, version of myself, a heroine I could slip inside as one might a pair of favourite shoes.
If you turn the pages and look inside, there is nothing of me I feel that I have to hide.
I want the reader to turn the page and keep on turning to the end.
I am not a person to say the words out loud I think them strongly, or let them hunger from the page: know it from there, from my silence, from somewhere other than my tongue the quiet love the silent rage.
Karl Popper once advised a student that if he wanted to reap intellectual fame, he should write endless pages of obscure, high-flown prose that would leave the reader puzzled and cowed. He should then here and there smuggle in a few sensible, straightforward sentences all could understand. The reader would feel that since he has grasped this part, he must have also grasped the rest. He would then congratulate himself and praise the author.
*I want to keep walking away from the person I was a moment ago. . . *So soon you will be in that part of the book where you are holding the bulk of the pages in your left hand, and only a thin wisp of the story in your right. *We get one story, you and I, and one story alone. . . . It might be time for you to go. It might be time to change, to shine out.
Just as music comes alive in the performance of it, the same is true of mathematics. The symbols on the page have no more to do with mathematics than the notes on a page of music. They simply represent the experience.
With a sudden sharp hot stink of fox, It enters the dark hole of the head. The window is starless still; the clock ticks, The page is printed.
A poem should improve on the blank page.