Top Prose Quotes

MotherHushed and sacred silencefills the dawning skyI ponder in this momentof our journey which is nigh...

I get so god damn lonely and sad and filled with regrets some days. It overwhelms me as I’m sitting on the bus; watching the golden leaves from a window; a sudden burst of realisation in the middle of...

Prose Definition

(n.) The ordinary language of men in speaking or writing; language not cast in poetical measure or rhythm; -- contradistinguished from verse, or metrical composition.

(n.) Hence, language which evinces little imagination or animation; dull and commonplace discourse.

(n.) A hymn with no regular meter, sometimes introduced into the Mass. See Sequence.

(a.) Pertaining to, or composed of, prose; not in verse; as, prose composition.

(a.) Possessing or exhibiting unpoetical characteristics; plain; dull; prosaic; as, the prose duties of life.

(v. t.) To write in prose.

(v. t.) To write or repeat in a dull, tedious, or prosy way.

(v. i.) To write prose.

I am not a Sunday morning inside four wallswith clean bloodand organized drawers.I am the hurricane setting fire to the forestsat night when no one else is aliveor awakehowever you choose to see itand...

Lollypop...the passion contained merely kissesplaced upon lips, neck and cheekthese young lovers of the castleof which our fairytale speaks...

The Grim Reaper isn't grim at all; he's a life-saver. He isn't grim because he isn't anything. . . . he is nothing. And nothing is a hell of a lot better than anything. So long, boys.

I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another til I drop.

A man cannot impart the true feeling of things to others unless he himself has experienced what he is trying to tell of.

Note, to-day, an instructive, curious spectacle and conflict. Science, (twin, in its fields, of Democracy in its)—Science, testing absolutely all thoughts, all works, has already burst well upon the w...

I am young now and can look upon my body and soul with pride. But it will be mangled soon, and later it will begin to disintegrate, and then I shall die, and die conclusively. How can we face such a f...

THE NEXT DAY WAS RAIN-SOAKED and smelled of thick sweet caramel, warm coconut and ginger. A nearby bakery fanned its daily offerings. A lapis lazuli sky was blanketed by gunmetal gray clouds as it wep...

I was amazed by the fact that I was not the only writer living, not the only young man "with a locomotive in his chest, and that's a fact," not the only youth with a million hungers and not one of the...

One often hears of writers that rise and swell with their subject, though it may seem but an ordinary one. How, then, with me, writing of this Leviathan? Unconsciously my chirography expands into plac...

I am constantly torn between the will to be seen and still hidden so god damn well, a contradiction I never figured out.

why be bothered with other people's set-ups? it only leads to torture.

For I have nothing to lean on, nowhere to call my home and there is nowhere I will go for Christmas to rest my head and touch familiar walls. I have no degree to show on paper or employment to take ca...

Sometimes you need to sit lonely on the floor in a quiet room in order to hear your own voice and not let it drown in the noise of others.

Eloquence is the poetry of prose.

This world can be quite wonderful once you let yourself be a part of it.

You are to me like white islands, in a world of vast darkness.

It could have been so beautiful.The way I learned and got free and swore to never love another person ever againand it could have been so beautiful,the way I actually did.