c2p-cmd/Good-Quotes-Authors huggingface dataset:
I feel like these characters, these places, these beings and plots, and even these inanimate objects are counting on me for survival. It’s my responsibility to reveal them to the world, to show my readers the names of these things, to show them their histories and stories.
— Nicholas Trandahl
As in the universe every atom has an effect, however minuscule, on every other atom, so that to pinch the fabric of Time and Space at any point is to shake the whole length and breadth of it, so in fiction every element has effect on every other, so that to change a character's name from Jane to Cynthia is to make the fictional ground shudder under her feet.
— John Gardner, The Art of Fiction: Notes on Craft for Young Writers
It was the sunlight coming through the window that woke Alex up
—  mother nature's own alarm clock rudely snapped him back to consciousness. The white light poured in so arrogantly that it was too much for his eyes to handle. Squinting did not seem enough to defend against it and the light slipped between his fingers when he held up his hand in an attempt to shield his eyes.
Or you just might say that destiny finally caught up with me.
— As Time Goes By
For his lunch break, Alex decided to sit outside for a smoke. There was no break room to speak of, just a backdoor that led to a neglected parking lot and an old payphone. There was an upturned crate by the door used to hold the door open or to sit on if one so desired. But Alex couldn't sit down, even though he had been standing for the past four hours, his anxious mind kept his feet moving.He paced back and forth, smoking his cigarette with the speed of an anxious drug addict. The cool but faint breeze pushed the smoke away from him and dissipated it into nothing. He still felt angry about the run-in with Gonzalez. It had consistently poked at him like a curious sadist with a pointed stick ever since he walked away from the door slammed in his face.
— J.C. Joranco
Danilo's was the kind of place where many drinking men come to hide, be it from their wives, in-laws, their jobs or life in general. it was where men and women can come to drink poison as if it was the only form of medicine available to remedy the migraine headache called life. The lighting dim and secluded, mostly covering the tables, counters and the door to the bathroom. The walls were decorated in decades of memories, favorite sports teams and other miscellaneous decor that was typical of small bars such as this one. It was too dark to tell what they were from a distance.  There was a thick layer of smoke hovering in the air around the ceiling lights, the place was smothered in it but was strongest above everyone's heads. The smell was the classic stale bar odor of cigarettes and cheap cigars.
— J.C. Joranco, Halfway to Nowhere
If all that one sees is a tiny speck of perspective in the larger scheme of things. And each perspective is made alive by the amalgamation of learning. And learning is a mere accumulation of skill and knowledge : both deriving from Truth. And Truth is not absolute but more of a figment of one's imagination made apparent to the senses. Then all, or for the most part, is fiction.
— Nikhil Sharda, eFiction India Vol. 1 Issue 07
It was like walking into another world. While the mansion was bright, warm, comfy and filled with sound and color, the outside was dark, cold, colorless and devoid of people.I found myself standing beside Thomas in the street. The paved road felt so cold it was hurting my feet. I kept moving them up and down, afraid my skin would freeze to the pavement. My heart was racing already and I felt a bit out of breath. If we stood there much longer i was going to hyperventilate.
— J.C. Joranco, Say It Ain't So
Can you imagine how many people got laid in here?" Abby said, walking to the other side of the Jacuzzi.
— J.C. Joranco
That's what scares me the most, Paul. That I'll just pass through life and all the people I know will just disappear, without a trace, without me ever telling them how much they mean to me, no matter how small the time spent was or how great the friendship was. That they'll be gone and they'll forget me and I'll end up with nothing."I saw in my head Charley laughing, Charley sticking his head out the window and screaming, Charley playing a video game so intensely he was a foot from the screen. Moments flashed before my eyes in a quick, unrelenting sequence. I shook my head. "I know. Believe me, I know.
— J.C. Joranco, Say It Ain't So
You are the belle of the ball tonight.” He said as he moved in closer. “How can you be so sinfully beautiful Mrs. Norman?
— Barry  Gray, The Revenge of Esther Norman The Complete First Series
Thomas tilted his head towards me. "Don't mind him, he's drunk.""Does he work for you?" I asked him. "Who, Rick? No no no. Really though, he's a fine gentleman, if you speak to him while you're heavily intoxicated. You have to be brought down to HIS level of intelligence in order to properly communicate with him, you see." Thomas said.
— J.C. Joranco, Say It Ain't So
Since truth is often stranger than fiction, fiction needs to be pretty weird.
— Erik  Meyer
What’s broken is broken—and I’d rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I live…I’m too old to believe in such sentimentalities as clean slates and starting all over.
— Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind
Nothing exists except through human consciousness
— George Orwell, 1984
The only way to build a fan base is to have a lot of material out there for readers to find. You can't manufacture a fan base. You create it, one story at a time.
— Kristine Kathryn Rusch
In the forest you may find yourself lost, without companions. You may come to a river which is not on a map. You may lose sight of your quarry, and forget why you are there. You may meet a dwarf, or the living Christ, or an old enemy of yours; or a new enemy, one you do not know until you see his face appear between the rustling leaves, and see the glint of his dagger. You may find a woman asleep in a bower of leaves. For a moment, before you don’t recognise her, you will think she is someone you know.
— Hilary Mantel, Wolf Hall
Its magnificence was indescribable, and its magnitude was inconceivable. She felt overwhelmed in the presence of its greatness. Pg 87
— Mona Rodriguez
For years I’d been awaiting that overriding urge I’d always heard about, the narcotic pining that draws childless women ineluctably to strangers’ strollers in parks. I wanted to be drowned by the hormonal imperative, to wake one day and throw my arms around your neck, reach down for you, and pray that while that black flower bloomed behind my eyes you had just left me with child. (With child: There’s a lovely warm sound to that expression, an archaic but tender acknowledgement that for nine months you have company wherever you go. Pregnant, by contrast, is heavy and bulging and always sounds to my ear like bad news: “I’m pregnant.” I instinctively picture a sixteen-year-old at the dinner table- pale, unwell, with a scoundrel of a boyfriend- forcing herself to blurt out her mother’s deepest fear.) (27)
— Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin
Confession is good for the soul even after the soul has been claimed” (p. 381).
— Mona Rodriguez
Why are you perpetuating a childhood you grew up despising? Pg 57
— Mona Rodriguez
You know that euphemism, she’s expecting? It’s apt. The birth of a baby, so long as it’s healthy, is something to look forward to. It’s a good thing, a big, good, huge event. And from thereon in, every good things, too,” I added hurriedly, “but also, you know, first steps, first dates, first places in sack races. Kids, they graduate, they marry, they have kids themselves- in a way, you get to do everything twice. Even if our kid had problems,” I supposed idiotically, “at least they wouldn’t be our same old problems... ” (22)
— Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin
Franklin, I was absolutely terrified of having a child. Before I got pregnant, my visions of child rearing- reading stories about cabooses with smiley faces at bedtime, feeding glop into slack mouths- all seemed like pictures of someone else. I dreaded confrontation with what could prove a closed, stony nature, my own selfishness and lack of generosity, the thick tarry powers of my own resentment. However intrigued by a “turn of the page,” I was mortified by the prospect of becoming hopelessly trapped in someone else’s story. And I believe that this terror is precisely what must have snagged me, the way a ledge will tempt one to jump off. The very surmountability of the task, its very unattractiveness , was in the end what attracted me to it. (32)
— Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin
Miniture protoplasm, the dirty little bastard!
— Richard Matheson, I Am Legend
I was somewhere between angry and turned-on.
— Steven Ramirez, Tell Me When I'm Dead
I don’t want to look. I’ve got to look.” Vance... "Vital Perception
— D.L. Given
I touched his face. "Look," I said. "I love you more than everything else in the world combined. Isn't that enough?" "Yes, it is enough," he answered, smiling. "Enough for forever.
— Stephenie Meyer, Twilight
You’ll be civilized or we’ll leave your arse here.” Johan... "Vital Perception
— D.L. Given, Vital Perception
Look, I went to a lot of trouble to come here and try to help you. I’m in more trouble than I can guess, but if you don’t want my help… maybe I should have just stayed home.
— D.L. Given, Vital Perception
The morning was brisk and the coffee was hot and roasted with little gurgles in the room. Rosie hadn’t moved, but she let out a tiny snore every now and again that made everything perfect.
— Ruth McLeod-Kearns, Blood Mother
Like I’ve told you before, Beverly, I don’t care where we live as long as we’re together.” Vance... "The Elder Effect
— D.L. Given
I also had a father, who had loved for a long time without being nearby. How many others were walking around and not even knowing that someone far away cared for them? Imagine all that love floating in the air, waiting to land on someone's life.
— Pam Muñoz Ryan, Becoming Naomi León
In life your rewards come from the gifts you give to others.
— Ken Donaldson, The Underworld and Beyond: Volume 2
We were like wanderers in a desert, blessed with a rare downpour, but unable to store the rain.
— Karen Thompson Walker, The Age of Miracles
I did the only thing I could. I said the dumbest thing any man has ever said to a woman, “Yeah, it’s just me and my trash can here,” as I patted its lid and started pushing it up the driveway.
— Amanda Hamm, Meet Cute: 5 Romantic Short Stories
Life is a bowl of cherries just make sure you spit out the pits
— Dawson C. Walton, Dreams: A Journey We Would All Like to Take
We’re going to make a tunnel for that ship. We’re going to make sure that little lady has every chance in the world to survive. If I get any trouble out of any of ya…” he paused. “I’ll handle it myself, do you understand?” Johan… “Vital Perception
— D.L. Given
He pressed bravely ahead with his story, the outlines and preliminary versions of which by now filled two thick notebooks, reorganizing, redrafting, and obsessively re-polishing lines and paragraphs with a jeweler's precision.But it was not good enough.He wanted the pages to sing with ideas that had once seemed so important to him, all and everything he knew, and yet they did not, and no amount of diligence was able to bring them to life. The story came to be a burden and weighed more heavily in his hands each time he lifted it out of the drawer. After a few weeks he was reluctant to open the desk at all.("Talking In The Dark")
— Dennis Etchison, Shadows 7
When he wasn’t busy chasing unseen mice around the academy, Ion spent hours in the Borean Study, searching through dusty books for anything that had to do with the banshee or the Shroud. But finding this anything proved to be difficult as well, especially when the books you’re reading have everything to do with something, but certainly nothing to do with your anything. And in trying to find this anything, Ion forgot about a very important, specific thing, which would quickly ruin his Wednesday.
— Nikolas Lee, The Iron-Jawed Boy
I recalled something I’d read a long time ago about Satan. When he appeared, it wouldn’t be as a demon but as an ordinary-looking guy with a convincing message of peace.
— Steven Ramirez, Tell Me When I'm Dead
Humph! A text message that said, ‘What’s up, sexy?’ You call that setting a mood? Love making takes place long before the bedroom—
— N. Wood Lane, Do It to My Mind
Do try The House by fresh new author, Susannah Mansfield, it's funny, sad and very different, you'll love the characters and the stories.
— Susannah Mansfield
I never look at a painting and ask, "Is this painting fictional or non-fictional?" It's just a painting.
— Scott McClanahan, Crapalachia: A Biography of a Place
Our first kiss was there on the bridge in the woods. How do you describe a first kiss? It is like trying to hold water in your hands. There is an ancient Chinese proverb that compares kissing to drinking salted water. “You drink, and your thirst increases,” it says. Time, I’m sure, passed by, but we remained unavailable for comment.
— Kirstie Collins Brote, Beware of Love in Technicolor
When reading dies, the imagination soon follows.
— Ronnie Ray Jenkins
No,” I said. “I can’t remember doing this.”“Oh,” Rena made and gestured dramatically. “You don’t remember it. And that automatically means you didn’t do it?
— Lili Frings, The Clare Kane Project
Good fantasy fiction: ... explores real human conditions through fantastic metaphors which universalize the characters' individual experiences to speak personally to us all.
— Laura Resnick
The days I’d passed with my mom before she died were still there, it seemed, seared into the corners of my heart.The atmosphere of the station brought it all back. I could see myself running to the hospital, glad to be seeing my mother again. You never know you’re happy until later. Because physical sensations like smells and exhaustion don’t figure into our memories, I guess. Only the good bits bob up into view.I was always startled by the snatches of memory that I saw as happy, how they came.This time, it was the feeling I got when I stepped out onto the platform. The sense of what it had been like to be on my way to see my mom, for her still to be alive, if only for the time being, if only for that day. The happiness of that knowledge had come back to life inside me.And the loneliness of that moment. The helplessness.
— Banana Yoshimoto
... Because the writer resented that she had turned to me I became the handsome and dazed narrator, incapable of love or kindness. That's how I became the damaged party boy who wandered through the wreckage, blood streaming from his nose, asking questions that never required answers. That's how I became the boy who never understood how anything worked. That's how I became the boy who wouldn't save a friend. That's how I became the boy who couldn't love the girl.
— Bret Easton Ellis, Imperial Bedrooms
Quinn froze. There was nothing he could do now that would not be a mistake. Whatever choice he made--and he had to make a choice--would be arbitrary, a submission to chance. Uncertainty would haunt him to the end. At that moment, the two Stillmans started on their way again. The first turned right, the second turned left. Quin craved an amoeba's body, wanting to cut himself in half and run off in two directions at once. (Chapter 7)
— Paul Auster, City of Glass
I had a lump in my throat the size of a bundt cake pan.
— Jessica Soffer, Tomorrow There Will Be Apricots
Appalling things can happen to children. And even a happy childhood is filled with sadnesses. Is there any other period in your life when you hate your best friend on Monday and love them again on Tuesday? But at eight, 10, 12, you don't realise you're going to die. There is always the possibility of escape. There is always somewhere else and far away, a fact I had never really appreciated until I read Gitta Sereny's profoundly unsettling Cries Unheard about child-killer Mary Bell.At 20, 25, 30, we begin to realise that the possibilities of escape are getting fewer. We begin to picture a time when there will no longer be somewhere else and far away. We have jobs, children, partners, debts, responsibilities. And if many of these things enrich our lives immeasurably, those shrinking limits are something we all have to come to terms with.This, I think, is the part of us to which literary fiction speaks.
— Mark Haddon
...I tried to pretend that what we were enacting was nothing more than an intricate kind of handshake." ~Malcolm
— Kathleen Maher, Diary of a Heretic
He wasn't, I realized when I read those scenes concerning Blair and myself, close to any of us-- except of course to Blair, and really not even to her. He was simply someone who floated through our lives and didn't seem to care how flatly he perceived everyone or that he'd shared our secret failures with the world, showcasing the youthful indifference, the gleaming nihilism, glamorizing the horror of it all. But there was no point in being angry with him.
— Bret Easton Ellis, Imperial Bedrooms
It was one of those late summer days trying its best to convince everyone that winter would never seep through and ravage the earth.
— A.J. Waines, Girl on a Train
In the beginning we start with roses. The king’s flower right? Only they wilt in less than a day, especially when exposed to the elements. But Carnations? Oh, what a beautiful flower. They come in every color. True, some are painted, but that doesn’t mean they are less beautiful, and they never wilt.
— Ruth McLeod-Kearns, Carnations Never Wilt
Careless and not particularly biting, it was easier to shrug off than anything in the first book which depicted me as an inarticulate zombie confused by the irony of Randy Newman's "I Love L.A.
— Bret Easton Ellis, Imperial Bedrooms
The audience-- the book's actual cast-- quickly realized what had happened. The reason the movie dropped everything that made the novel real was because there was no way the parents who ran the studio would ever expose their children in the same black light the book did. The movie was begging for our sympathy whereas the book didn't give a shit. And attitudes about drugs and sex had shifted quickly from 1985 to 1987 (and a regime change at the studio didn't help) so the source material-- surprisingly conservative despite its surface immorality-- had to be reshaped.
— Bret Easton Ellis, Imperial Bedrooms
Misery comes to miser; joy comes to wiser. (A Very Hot Cup of Tea, Empathy)Juvenile invites, youth tries, adult applies, and the old man dies. (A Straw Man, Empathy)In everyone, there lives a superhero. (The Medicine Man, Empathy)Faith is the strongest word in any dictionary. (The Wisdom Beard, Empathy)I’ve entered into your feelings; it’s your turn now. (Empathy)
— D.R. Mirror
All the real secrets are buried, and only ghosts speak the truth.
— Anthony Hyde, The Red Fox
all we see today in name of love it not that lust is sold in name of love
— Rohit, It's Not Over: Structural Drivers of the Global Economic Crisis
Heavy is the head that holds the pen of creation. We construct these characters from nothing, molding them from our imaginations. We give them hopes and dreams and unique personalities until they feel so real you’re mind believes it must be so. We watch them grow by our hands, not always knowing the paths they will choose with the obstacles we throw at them. They take on a life of their own and often surprise even us by their actions we couldn’t have imagined before it poured out of us onto the paper. We could change it if we really wanted to, but it would be forced and not be true to the characters. And when something tragic happens and one is lost, we feel that loss even though we know they were not a friend, a family member or even ourselves. It can be a hard thing to voice sometimes, to give tribute to the one’s left behind with the real sadness over something not so real. But we find the words and press on to the next challenge, because that's what good writers do.
— Jennifer A. Marsh
Great fiction is the art of a soul.
— Douglas Christiansen
when you live outside the law, you have to be flexible
— Tom Cook, Vampire Chic (edition 3) Dagon Jamm P. I.
Movie. What's my favorite kind of movie?”“Is there a point to this?”“Please, Lucy. What's my favorite movie?”“Horror. Why?”“No reason,” I sighed as I slouched back in the chair.“And would you stop that! Please? It's distracting,” she said as sheslammed her hand down on top of mine to stop me from twirling my ring.I jerked my hand out from under hers so I could cross my arms over mychest.“What's with you today?” Her tone was saturated with distaste.“Nothing.”“Well, you're being awfully annoying for nothing to be wrong,” sheretorted. “Go ahead, Josh. I'm listening now.”I could feel the cold emanating from her and flowing in my direction. Ithad been this way for a while I just didn't want to see it.Danny and Josh looked at me and then awkwardly focused on otherthings.
— Kaitlin Scott, For Danny
Well, I would tell Danny. I'd probably edit for Josh. That is if there wasanything worth editing.“Joshua Roberts, you had better get your butt on the move!” Dannyhollered as he walked down the stairs.I was nervously waiting for them to leave as I pretended to watch TV inthe front room.“We're going to be late.”“So the hair crisis is under control I see.”“A stray hair will never win between a bottle of gel and a gay man,” hedeclared with a smile. “Joshua!”“I'm coming. I'm coming.”I heard his sandals click on the stairs and I waited to see if the mentalimage matched the real one. To my non surprise it did.
— Kaitlin Scott, For Danny
I went to say no, but I winced as I pulled my tooth out of my lip.I was absolutely hopeless. In a two minute period my front curls hadstarted to go straight due to my constant brushing them behind my earsand I was pretty sure my lip was bleeding. Frustrated I pushed myself off ofthe couch with a huff and walked around the glass coffee table to head forthe kitchen.“I've made you angry.”“No.”Darren got up and cut me off in the middle of the room. “Yes, I did.You're angry with me.”“No, not with you.”“Then what's wrong?”“I'm angry with myself.
— Kaitlin Scott, For Danny
Don't worry I won't embarrass you. I'm just going to check out hisfriends. Maybe his grades and definitely his track record with the ladies.”“Jackson Ryan Taylor, I swear to whatever holy being there maybe thatI will personally rip you a...”“Whoa, calm down. She's violent,” he whispered only for Danny. “Can't Ibe concerned?”“Yes, so long as you keep your mouth shut.”“What?”“Not a word, Jack. I mean it.”“Moira...”“Not a word!”I stormed out of the bathroom and that was the end of thatconversation
— Kaitlin Scott, For Danny
Miz Ellen, what do you carry in that handbag of yours that has enough wallop to knock down a full-grown man? - Dan Landry
— Jane Rainwater, Red Hats & Renegades
You can't make a fan of everyone. Stay true to your story, characters, music, art or whatever it is you do and fuck everyone else who doesn't like it. Life isn't perfect.
— Ann Marie Frohoff
I have been…To every depth of my heartTo every height of my mindTo every extent of my worldI see only one nameIt’s yours…
— Heenashree Khandelwal, Soulmates, By Chance
Never give up. Dare to Dream. Dare to believe.
— Stacey T. Hunt
I'm sorry," I heard him say again. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sudden blur of movement as he slid out of his seat, left some bills for the breakfast he wouldn't eat, and walked away. And as he did, I thought again of those mornings in the hallway at school, way back in ninth grade. Everything had started in such sharp detail, each aspect pronounced and clear. Obviously, endings were different. Harder to see, full of shapes that could be one thing or another, with all the things that you were once so sure of suddenly not familiar, if they were even recognizable at all.
— Sarah Dessen, The Moon and More
While my chosen form of story-writing is obviously a special and perhaps a narrow one, it is none the less a persistent and permanent type of expression, as old as literature itself. There will always be a certain small percentage of persons who feel a burning curiosity about unknown outer space, and a burning desire to escape from the prison-house of the known and the real into those enchanted lands of incredible adventure and infinite possibilities which dreams open up to us, and which things like deep woods, fantastic urban towers, and flaming sunsets momentarily suggest.
— H.P. Lovecraft, Notes On Writing Weird Fiction
Everything is inspiration. If you look at the world as the incredible place it is, then each moment is a feast.
— J.D. Means
Atmosphere, not action, is the great desideratum of weird fiction. Indeed, all that a wonder story can ever be is a vivid picture of a certain type of human mood. The moment it tries to be anything else it becomes cheap, puerile, and unconvincing. Prime emphasis should be given to subtle suggestion - imperceptible hints and touches of selective associative detail which express shadings of mood and build up a vague illusion of the strange reality of the unreal. Avoid bald catalogues of incredible happenings which can have no substance or meaning apart from a sustaining cloud of colour and symbolism.
— H.P. Lovecraft, Notes On Writing Weird Fiction
You've got the wrong girl.""On the contrary..." the voice murmured, "I've got exactly the girl I want." Her body turned to ice. Her mind fought for calm. There were people only yards away, yet she was alone... "You're bleeding." Lips closed over hers. A kiss so passionate that time faded and stopped... so passionate, it sucked her breath away... Searing heat swept through her- pain and pleasure throbbing through her veins. With a helpless moan, she leaned into him and realized with a shock the kiss had ended.
— Richie Tankersley Cusick, The Unseen
As I lay there watching Robin sleep beside me, I realized that she was right all along. I didn’t need to live in a castle — a shack in the woods with her would do just fine. And for that matter, I didn’t need to be prince of the ocean either, because with her by my side… I was king of the pond.
— Sebastian Cole, Sand Dollar: A Story of Undying Love
For a long time, Maurice rubbed his shaved head in his palm, until at last he looked up at his student. "Teo, I think you have to let Deu be the God he is, not the god you want him to be.
— Bryan M. Litfin, The Sword
Commentators frequently blame MMORPGs for an increasing sense of isolation in modern life. But virtual worlds are less a cause of that isolation than a response to it. Virtual worlds give back what has been scooped out of modern life. The virtual world is in important ways more authentically human than the real world. It gives us back community, a feeling of competence, and a sense of being an important person whom people depend on.
— Jonathan Gottschall, The Storytelling Animal: How Stories Make Us Human
What you believe determines the way you feel and act... but it doesn't change the truth.
— Steve Holt, Upgrade Earth: The Return Home
Fiction is an urgent business. It is the Dying Us telling stories to the Dying Us, trying to crack the nonsense in our heads open with a big hammer pronto, before Death arrives.
— George Saunders
It gets kind of zen after awhile, life is a journey, time is a river, the door is ajar.
— Jim Butcher
How often do you ignore a dream, dismiss it as fantasy and then see echoes of the dream around you the following day? What if a dream were the forewarning of what will become your reality; if you are being told within the world of a dream what may occur in the near or distant future, but your mind mangles the truth and information so much that you discard it as fiction?
— Samantha Robertson, Floor 88
I don't know about you, but I find the idea of a school at night time - imagining the silent classrooms in total darkness and the playgrounds left lonesome and bare - creepily peculiar.
— Elizabeth    Newton, Furry Friends
Don't ruin a good story with the facts.
— Jerry Guarino, Trilogies: 18 Sets of Short Fiction
You’re as plain as the nose on your face,” said Mr. Pennyworth. “And your nose is remarkably obvious. As is the rest of your face, young man. As are you. For the sake of all that is holy, empty your mind. Now. You are an empty alleyway. You are a vacant doorway. You are nothing. Eyes will not see you. Minds will not hold you. Where you are is nothing and nobody.
— Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book
No fiction is good fiction unless it is true to life, and yet no life is worth relating unless it be a life out of the ordinary; and then it seems improbable like fiction.
— William Gerhardie, Futility
They again kissed each other and fell asleep. The patch of light on the ceiling now seemed to be assuming the shape of a terrified eye, that stared wildly and fixedly upon the pale, slumbering couple who reeked with crime beneath their very sheets, and dreamt they could see a rain of blood falling in big drops, which turned into golden coins as they plashed upon the floor.
— Émile Zola, The Fortune of the Rougons
Now, then, that is the tale. Some of it is true.
— Mark Twain
Listen to me you piece of shit, if you ever give the press information about me, my parents or even breathe a word about me to anyone ever again, I swear to god I will make it my mission to make your life a living hell. And, believe me I’ll do it with a smile on my face the whole time. You’re a worthless excuse for a Detective and everyone here knows it. You’ve screwed your way to the top and backstabbed Gena to get into your Captain’s good books. Well look around you honey, you’re a real star. No one stopped Gena or me taking you on. I’ve currently got you in a hold, where I could snap your neck if I wanted to, and not one person is stepping forward to help you. Yeah, you’ve really made it.” - Stephanie Carovella to Sandra Barton
— Nina D'Angelo, Nowhere to Hide
Identity politics divides us; fiction connects. One is interested in sweeping generalizations, the other in nuances. One draws boundaries, the other recognizes no frontiers. Identity politics is made of solid bricks; fiction is flowing water.
— Elif Shafak
From Olsen's Nation: "Through the power of our diplomacy, a world that was once divided about how to deal with Iran’s nuclear program now stands as one. Standing as one, the world now sincerely regrets Iran’s nuclear program." — President Bodvar Olsen, fifth State of the Union address
— Randy Quarles, Olsen's Nation
This is not one of your fictions where people bleed ink.
— Terence Paul Winter
Sick is a relative concept. We’re all sick. The question is, what degree of functionality do we have with respect to the rules society sets for desirable behavior? No actions are in themselves symptoms of sickness. You have to look at the context within which these actions are performed.
— Jo Nesbø
While I stood on the front porch, watching him climb into his vehicle, I breathed in the humid air. I looked at the cloudless sky, and the blue vastness of it made me think about the endless opportunities that lay ahead for me. Life, I knew, was going to be different now… better. I was going to live for today and for the future. Dear past… thank you for the lessons. Dear future… I am ready.
— Debra  Kay, EXcapades
The simplicity of youth is mesmerizing to me. Maybe because I didn't know it long enough."London Drake"They All fall down
— Nick Moccia, They All Fall Down
Reading yourself as a fiction as well as a fact is the only way to keep the narrative open - the only way to stop the story from running away under its own momentum, often towards an ending no one wants.
— Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?
Is this how humanity waves good-bye?Hell no.
— Rick Yancey, The 5th Wave
To be inspired is great, but to inspire is an honor.
— Stacey T. Hunt
I brought Sammy inside and put him to bed. Said his prayer with him. “‘Now I lay me down to sleep…’” To me, just random noise. Gibberish. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but I felt that, when it came to God, there was a broken promise in there somewhere.
— Rick Yancey, The 5th Wave
One moment of true happiness was worth all the moments of pain. (Jessica)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Muhammad introduced the concept of such Glorious and Omnipotent God in Whose eyes all worldly systems are pieces of straw. Islamic equality of mankind is no fiction as it is in Christianity. No human mind has ever thought of such total freedom as established by Muhammad.
— Mawde Royden
Dying is not a solution.. I want to live with You..!
— K. Hari Kumar, When Strangers meet..
He(Prophet Muhammad) was Caesar and Pope in one; but he was Pope without Pope's pretensions, Caesar without the legions of Caesar: without a standing army, without a bodyguard, without a palace, without a fixed revenue; if ever any man had the right to say that he ruled by the right divine, it was Muhammad, for he had all the power without its instruments and without its supports.
— B. Smith
I just want to domething that matters. Or be something that matters. I just want to matter.
— John Green, An Abundance of Katherines
Fate was a reality, but it wasn’t a beautiful or angelic thing. It was a heart-wrenching nightmare. And we’d fallen blindly into it. We had no escape. It was happening, and it was up to me to guarantee our survival of it. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
I wasn’t sure what was worse: being oblivious or living within reality. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Don’t trust anybody else—no matter how close you are to them.” (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
I wanted to protect her, and, if I couldn’t do that, I’d at least be there for her. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Grayson: Fiction is just a lie anyway.Brianna: But it's not - it's a different kind of truth - it would be your truth at the time of the writing, wouldn't it?
— Nora Roberts, Born in Ice
My insanity begged for a distraction. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Fiction should always steer clear of political considerations.
— Paul Bowles, The Spider's House
I wasn’t in the mood for a fight, but fights weren’t always conveniently scheduled. (Jessica)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Everything seemed so unreal—so supernatural—and I had to remind myself that is was. We weren’t human. We never were. (Jessica)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
I’d prefer you accuse my son, so he can defend his innocence rather than prolong unnecessary guilt." (Spoken by Bracke, told by Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Identity was everything, but it seemed I never had one. (Jessica)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Just because I wasn’t human, didn’t mean I could discount human life. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Though in this genre we write about the fantastic, the stories work best when there is solid grounding in our world. Magic works best for me when it aligns with scientific principles. Worldbuilding works best when it draws from sources in our world. Characters work best when they’re grounded in solid human emotion and experience.
— Brandon Sanderson
Shadows could be anywhere in blackness. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Her kiss could kill us, and my consent signed our death certificates, selfishly and without control. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
I wanted to survive—not for my kind, but for trust, for friendship, for another being. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
I didn’t even have a name for her, shade or human, but I didn’t need one to know her. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
...it’s my job to lead you to success, and, if you fail, it’s because I failed, not you.’” (Spoken by Bracke, told by Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
I promise to tell you everything you want, but first I want something from you in return. What do you want? Olivia asked. I want a kiss, William said. You and I, we're making a deal of sorts...a bargain that we will keep each other's secrets...
— Evette Davis, Woman King
Anyone could be anybody. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
Neither of us asked to be born descendants, yet I’d be rewarded with his death, and we couldn’t prevent that. No one could. (Eric)
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
As a fiction writer I am not always sure where reality ends and non reality begins, when sane thoughts become less than sane, or what is imagination versus undiscovered truth, but ultimately, it is my job to make you as unsure as I am.
— Kathryn Mattingly, Benjamin
I gave you the best of me.
— Nicholas Sparks, The Best of Me
Nothing makes you think you might need years of therapy like saying the word breasts in front of your mother.
— Katie McGarry, Dare You To
Baby, God ain't gonna bless you with another woman's husband, not today, not tomorrow, not ever.
— Tracy L. Darity, Love...Like Snow in Florida on a Hot Summer Day
I have to save the world tomorrow, and I don't even know what I'm going to wear yet.--Rachel Morgan
— Kim Harrison
I am gone tomorrow. And there and gone again by the time you read this.
— Salvador Plascencia, The People of Paper
I knew nothing of death, and, for some unexplainable reason, I was beginning to feel guilty for that. -Jessica
— Shannon A. Thompson, Minutes Before Sunset
For me, at least, fiction is the only way i can even begin to twist my lying memories into something true.
— John Green
The instruction here is not for every kind of writer - not for the writer of nurse books or thrillers or porno or the cheaper sort of sci-fi - though it is true that what holds for the most serious kind of fiction will generally hold for junk fiction as well. (Not everyone is capable of writing junk fiction: It requires an authentic junk mind. Most creative-writing teachers have had the experience of occasionally helping to produce, by accident, a pornographer. The most elegant techniques in the world, filtered through a junk mind, become elegant junk techniques.)
— John Gardner, The Art of Fiction: Notes on Craft for Young Writers
The moderns say we must not punish heretics. My only doubt is whether we have the right to punish anybody else.
— G.K. Chesterton, The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare
[Nathan] wasn't blindly obsessed with a possession. He wasn't crazy. He was a hero--a father who'd risked his life to rescue his son.
— Randy Alcorn, Courageous
A man [Joyce] whose earliest stories appeared next to the manure prices in the Irish Homestead knew that columns of prose, like columns of shit, could both recultivate the earth.
— Declan Kiberd, Ulysses And Us: The Art Of Everyday Living
The old are often forgotten. Life moves on without a care for those who wish to remain in the past. We tend to talk too much because it’s rare that we’re listened to.
— Tami Egonu, A Rhapsody of Dreams
The farmhouse sat on a rise at the end of a long dirt road, in a clearing surrounded by fruit trees and ninety acres of pines. It was painted white, and peeling, and some former hippie tenant had painted a mandala on the wall just inside the door with fine-point Magic Marker. I painted over it, but it bled through, again and again. I finally left it there, a pale and pastel version of itself, hanging ghostlike in the hall.
— Marjorie Hudson, Accidental Birds of the Carolinas
Wherever you are lacking, your obedience in working on that before your mate comes is vital.
— Angelo M. Swinson
Fiction, at the point of development at which it has arrived, demands from the writer a spirit of scrupulous abnegation.The only legitimate of all the irreconcilable antagonisms that make our life so enigmatic, so burdensome, so fascinating, so dangerous--so full of hope. They exist! And this is the only fundamental truth of fiction.
— Joseph Conrad
If the weight comes from bacon you can so deduct it off the scale total to get your true weight. #science
— Michelle M. Pillow
From Flood, Flash, and Pheromones--coming soon:In the torrential downpour with water swirling that threatened to pull her down, she didn’t see the voice’s owner. The hurricane had blessed the entire city with a surprise drenching. All weather reports had predicted it to pass over with sporadic rainfall but that didn’t happen. The storm settled over Houston as if it had no intention to move on. Cassie flailed in panic as the roof of her car disappeared under the water twenty feet beyond. She prayed once more that the container in it was watertight. And that she’d see her car again. Then she concentrated on living. Where had the voice come from?
— Shelley K. Wall
From Flood, Flash, and Pheromones--coming soon:As Cassie’s body hurled toward him in the swirl, she realized the brevity of the situation. This was it. This was the moment that determined whether she lived to see another day or drowned in this filthy brown water. This was the moment she proved she had never been a quitter, never been a weakling. All the problems she’d dealt with at work today seemed trivial.
— Shelley K. Wall
Would the man in the cabin have come after them? Would he have sent someone else? Or would he have never even known they were there and they could have just gone back to normal life.Normal Life. He didn’t even know what that would be now.
— Shelley K. Wall, Bring It On
What's more important than recycling? Producing something to recycle.
— Gordon Osmond, Slipping on Stardust
He had always liked a good mess—God knows he had sure made a few. In typical form, he squared his shoulders, furrowed his brows and muttered, “bring it on.
— Shelley K. Wall, Bring It On
How can I be more important than someone else? Isn’t every life important?
— Shelley K. Wall, The Designated Drivers' Club
From Chloe's Secret--coming soon“What are you saying?”“I’m saying I want to have a relationship with you. I want to love you.”“Is there a ‘but’ coming next?”“But the funny thing is, when I didn’t want to love you—it happened anyway.”He slipped his arms into my back pockets and hugged the breath out of me. I choked, my eyes stung. “I don’t know what to say.”He smiled. “Say whatever you want to. Just because I said it, you don’t have to.”He was right; I didn’t have to. He wasn’t asking anything of me.
— Shelley K. Wall
I don't know if you've ever been covered head to toe in prickle bush, but let me tell you, it's not a pleasant experience, as I'm sure you can imagine.
— Elizabeth    Newton, Furry Friends
Why worry, if today be sweet'?
— Thrity Umrigar
If you find that you're going through hell, keep moving. You will get to the end eventually.
— Kimberly Brouillette, Abram's Journey: Quest for the Man in the Stars
I never take out clients. It’s bad policy.” He looked me straight in the eyes as he said it. Reaching across for the glove compartment, his arm accidentally brushed my leg.
— Gabrielle Black, Treating Murder
Am Anfang war Gott? It may have been true, but it was not germane.
— Stephen   Craig, The Omnipotence Paradox
He had heard many of his customers talking about 'repetitive strain injury' over the years and he was sure that, if he was capable, he too would suffer this - especially with the industrial tooling he carried around everywhere that he went.
— Stephen   Craig, Grim Reaping
Sometimes I still feel that there are two of me: one clean, flawless picture, the other imperfect and cracked; one boy, one girl; one voice that speaks aloud and one that whispers in my ear; one publicly known to have been troubled but be on the mend, the other who has privately lost something to do with innocence and gained something to do with knowledge and adulthood that can never be undone. I feel sometimes there are things that tear me in two directions, that there are two sets of thoughts that grow side by side. But then I realize that I am whole, whatever that means and does not mean; I am complete without the need for additions or alteration.
— Abigail Tarttelin, Golden Boy
What are you doing with all these books?" I asked, stepping towards a tall stack on the floor. I ran my fingers down the spines, recognizing a few familiar titles from School: Heart of Darkness, The Great Gatsby, and To the Lighthouse.Caleb came beside me, his warm shoulder brushing against mine. "I do this funny thing sometimes," she said, shooting me a mischievous grin. "I open a book, and I look at each page. It's called reading
— Anna Carey, Eve
All who hear are called. All who are called are able.
— Chuck Black, Kingdom's Quest
The truth is, time marches on and you have two choices: You move forward, come what may, and you experience all the sour and sweet things that fly at you from around corners, or you sit still. Don't sit still.
— Suzanne Palmieri, The Witch of Little Italy
There is no shame in losing to the sword of the Prince. There is only shame in choosing not to follow Him.
— Chuck Black, Kingdom's Quest
I didn't even notice that my shoes were full of mud by the time I reached the rocky shore. There was ragged yellow police tape tied to some branches, dancing in the wind. It was as if the tape was waving, welcoming me back to place where I would have died.
— Richard P. Denney, What Lies Beneath
Charlee has my arm. She has my arm—my arm that’s rigid from pleasure, from her touch—in her little fingers. She holds my other one, too and she’s right there, that sweet candy perfume stripping the rest of the strength from my body, and it escapes in a soft, breathy sigh.
— Rebecca Berto, Drowning in You
The time of my departure is here. Place your hand gently on the soil beside my own, and feel the rumble of the earth beneath. The power of a thousand thousands is coming... evil warriors fighting against the Noble One. Here I stand with Him. Take up your sword and come with me, for the Prince is calling. And if you do not go... who will?
— Chuck Black, Kingdom's Quest
As for peace, it was never free and laws were made to be broken. Peacemaker or lawbreaker, someone, somewhere always paid the price no matter what side of the words they were on.
— Virginia McKevitt, The Hunted
What was the point of having a situation worthy of fiction if the protagonist didn't behave as he would have done in a book?
— Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending
I have closed my study door on the world and shut myself away with people of my imagination. For nearly sixty years I have eavesdropped with impunity on the lives of people who do not exist. I have peeped shamelessly into hearts and bathroom closets. I have leaned over shoulders to follow the movements of quills as they write love letters, wills and confessions. I have watched as lovers love, murderers murder and childern play their make-believe. Prisons and brothels have opened their doors to me; galleons and camel trains have transported me across sea and sand; centuries and continents have fallen away at my bidding. I have spied upon the misdeeds of the mighty and witnessed the nobility of the meek. I have bent so low over sleepers in their beds that they might have felt my breath on their faces. I have seen their dreams.
— Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale
You could write your way into happiness. It might not be the happiness you'd experience if Eldric pushed Leanne from a cliff, but there's a firefly glimmer in writing something that would please Rose.
— Franny Billingsley, Chime
Quote from “FUTURE GONE”: "…I wonder what actually this hospital is, why I am in it and who I am. I have no time to find out. I die, with my arms stretched towards the spotlights.Then whiteness.My body is still there somewhere…Buried in the extremely bright lights of empty hope".
— Alexandar Tomov
Motionless we traverse countries we fancy we see, and your thought, blending with the fiction, playing with the details, follows the outline of the adventures. It mingles with the characters, and it seems as if it were yourself palpitating beneath their costumes.
— Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary
The air between them began to settle into a silence. Awkward, yet softly exciting. Like an unexpected snow day.
— Suzanne Palmieri, The Witch of Little Italy
I love my career. It is a career. A difficult one that takes many hours and total dedication to my craft. It is also what I was born to do--tell stories and entertain.
— Michelle M. Pillow