Yeah, well, we're all writers, aren't we? He's a writer that hasn't been published, and I'm a writer who hasn't written anything.
She was feeling her bohemian oats.
She started converting objects of beauty into objects of value.
In logic class, I opened my textbook—the last place I was expecting to find comic inspiration—and was startled to find that Lewis Carroll, the supremely witty author of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderlan...
If you saw her in these moments, you might think she was collecting her thoughts in order to go forward. But I see it another way: Her mind is being overwhelmed by two processes that must simultaneous...
I was seeking comic originality, and fame fell on me as a by-product. The course was more plodding than heroic: I did not strive valiantly against doubters but took incremental steps studded with a fe...
Everything was dragging me toward the arts; even the study of modern philosophy suggested that philosophy was nonsense.
At the mall. Think I’ll do some rehearsing. Lie on sidewalk, get into dead guy character. Quite hard to do without chalk outline.
I'm enamored with the art world. Anytime you look at anything that's considered artistic, there's a commercial world around it: the ballet, opera, any kind of music. It can't exist without it.
The self-prepared dinner is a great time killer for lonely people and as much time should be spent on it as possible.
She has learned that her body is precious and it mustn't be offered carelessly ever again, as it holds a direct connection to her heart.
It is the perfect wrong time for Jeremy to do to Mirabelle what she had done to him - call him up for a quick fix - because;, in a sense, she is now betrothed. Her first date with someone who treated...
I opened the show with this line: I have decided to give the greatest performance of my life! Oh, wait, sorry, that's tomorrow night.
Had his room been facing west he would have noted the sparkling twenty-five-mile vista to the sea which looks almost like the Mediterranean. He would have noted how the streets of L.A. undulate over s...
It's so hard to believe in anything anymore. I mean, it's like, religion, you really can't take it seriously, because it seems so mythological, it seems so arbitrary...but, on the other hand, science...
The Matisse seemed to respond to the decreasing light by increasing its own wattage. Every object in the room was drained of color, but the Matisse stood firm in the de-escalating illumination, its be...
So, I can hurt now, or hurt later.
She has simply never quite learned to walk or hold herself comfortably, which makes her come off as an attractive wallflower.
She had destroyed whatever was between us by making a profound gaffe: She met me.
She didn't even finish her last sentence; it just trailed off. I think the subject had changed in her head while her mouth had continued on the old topic, not realizing it was out of supplies.