Show Dont Tell Quotes

This means keeping many trails open at once, inevitably requiring a fairly 'parallel' plot. This plot should be discovered rather than announced, so show, don't tell. ~ Graham Nelson

To show don't tell and all that other writery crap. (Adopted-orphan smile, I mean, that's not bad, come on.) ~ Gillian Flynn

I've read way too much on the overused/misunderstood buzzwords "Show, don't tell!" that I'm convinced all novels should now be picture books ~ Michael Kroft

Though we run across exceptions, philosophical novels where explanation holds interest, the temptation to explain is one that should almost always be resisted. A good writer can get anything at all across through action and dialogue, and if he can think of no powerful reason to do otherwise, he should probably leave explanation to his reviewers and critics. The writer should especially avoid comment on what his characters are feeling, or at very least should be sure he understands the common objection summed up in the old saw Show, don't tell. ~ John Gardner

I say fuck the old advice 'show, don't tell.' It's called story TELLING for a reason, and I'll stick to it! ~ Ashly Lorenzana

I think it's fair to say I am a writer. I'm using this journal to get better: to hone my skills, to collect details and observations. To show don't tell and all that other writerly crap. ~ Gillian Flynn

The first rule of good theatre is 'Show, don't tell.' It applies to good political action as well. ~ Carne Ross

Described by Harold Bloom as "the beginning of the end of the traditional novel of social morality" (xii), George Eliot's Middlemarch is nonetheless replete with a kind of authorial intervention that modern readers might find tiresome. Readers today are accustomed to the contemporary fictional maxim of "show, don't tell" but Eliot had different aesthetic ideas, for she always tells us right away who we are dealing with. At the beginning of Middlemarch, the character of one of its protagonists, Dorothea Brooke, is laid out. Eliot writes, ~ George Eliot

Now the second common characteristic of fiction follows from this, and it is that fiction is presented in such a way that the reader has the sense that it is unfolding around him. This doesn't mean he has to identify himself with the character or feel compassion for the character or anything like that. It just means that fiction has to be largely presented rather than reported. Another way to say it is that though fiction is a narrative art, it relies heavily on the element of drama. ~ Flannery O'Connor

Show (don't tell) your customers that you have good quality by actually delivering fresh coffee and tea. Intelligent people are active recipients of information, and prefer to reach conclusions by themselves. ~ Jerry Baldwin

Rules such as "Write what you know," and "Show, don't tell," while doubtlessly grounded in good sense, can be ignored with impunity by any novelist nimble enough to get away with it. There is, in fact, only one rule in writing fiction: Whatever works, works. ~ Tom Robbins

Most people say, "Show, don't tell," but I stand by Show and Tell, because when writers put their work out into the world, they're like kids bringing their broken unicorns and chewed-up teddy bears into class in the sad hope that someone else will love them as much as they do. ~ Colson Whitehead

The basic rule of storytelling is 'show, don't tell.' ~ Julianna Baggott

Show, don't tell, is a mantra repeated by tutors of creative writing courses the world over. As advice for amateurs, it is sound and helps avoid character profiling, unactivated scenes, and broken narrative frames. ~ Sarah Hall

He shrugged, a boyish mischief lighting his eyes. "I wanted to surprise you. I will admit that I knew you were a member. I also know you don't have a Dom. I guess I was hoping you would show me around." Sarah leaned over, whispering in her ear. "I am fairly certain my ovaries just spit out an egg. ~ Lexi Blake

You can't tell me my feelings are overwrought or absurd. You don't know. They are my feelings. ~ Leila Sales

If you're a baseball player and you're on the mound, you don't ever want to look up in the stands if somebody is yelling at you because they know they've got you. You just keep your head down, keep moving along. Of course it annoys you at the time, but you don't ever show that it does annoy you; just go ahead and move on and keep playing. If it does distract you, back off. ~ Tiger Woods

Tell me: How do you know that you won't be killed by a falling meteor? How do you know that you shut off the toaster oven this morning? That one of the seething millions of bacteria on your hands will not kill you? That your friends don't all secretly hate you? Do you have a religion? Do you have right religion? Are you sure? Are you a pedophile, a necrophiliac, a rapist? A murderer? How can you know that these tendencies do not dwell latent inside you, waiting for the right moment to evince themselves in the most horrific manner possible? How do you know that you are not a monster? How do you know that it isn't the end of the world? ~ Fletcher Wortmann

He was, he realized, comforted by her presence. They didn't need to talk. They didn't even need to touch (although he wasn't about to let go just then). Simply put, he was a happier man - and quite possibly a better man - when she was near.
He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent, smelling . . .
Smelling . . .
He drew back. "Would you care for a bath?"
Her face turned an instant scarlet. "Oh, no," she moaned, the words muffled into the hand she'd clapped over her mouth. "It was so filthy in jail, and I was forced to sleep on the ground, and - "
"Don't tell me any more," he said.
"But - "
"Please."
If he heard more he might have to kill someone. As long as there had been no permanent damage, he didn't want to know the details.
"I think," he said, the first hint of a smile tugging at the left corner of his mouth, "that you should take a bath."
"Right." She nodded as she rose to her feet. "I'll go straight to your mother's - "
"Here."
"Here?"
The smile spread to the right corner of his mouth. "Here."
"But we told your mother - "
"That you'd be home by nine."
"I think she said seven."
"Did she? Funny, I heard nine."
"Benedict . . ."
He took her hand and pulled her toward the door. "Seven sounds an awful lot like nine."
"Benedict . . ."
"Actually, it sounds even more like eleven."
"Benedict!"
He deposited her right by the door. "Sta ~ Julia Quinn

Did I ever tell you that I want to wear a big yellow smiley-face mask and then put on the CD version of Bobby McFerrin's 'Don't Worry, Be Happy' and then take a girl and a dog - a collie, a chow, a sharpei, it doesn't really matter - and then hook up this transfusion pump, this IV set, and switch their blood, you know, pump the dog's blood into the hardbody and vice versa, did I ever tell you this? ~ Bret Easton Ellis

Homeschool may have earned you the disapproval of others. But you don't have to show up to every argument you're invited to. ~ Jamie Erickson

Oh shit, I wouldn't use that towel if I were you," Gavin mumbles.
I ignore him scrubbing every inch of my face, hoping that maybe I can rub away the memory of the words my mother spoke to me.
"Seriously dude, give me that thing," Gavin says, Interrupting my thoughts. I pull the towel away and glare at his reflection in the mirror. He's standing behind me with a look of disgust on his face and his hand out. "What the fuck is wrong with you? I just found out that my mom was a slut and has no idea who my dad is and all you're worried about is your precious towel?" I ramble, my voice getting that hysterical squeak to it. "What's wrong? Is this one of Charlotte's 'good' towels, reserved for guests or some shit? Fuck, are you pussy whipped."
Gavin shakes his head at me and tries reaching over my shoulder to take the towel. I snatch it away and turn to face him. "What is your fucking deal? It's a Goddamn towel!" I yell. "Yeah, it's a jizz towel, dude."
I look at him in confusion, glancing down at the towel and back up at him when what he said finally sinks in. He's biting his lip and I can't tell if he's trying not to laugh or if he's trying to think of a way to run out of here as fast as he can. "Hey, what are you guys doing in the bathroom?" Charlotte asks, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "Oh, my God! Did you just use that towel, Tyler?" I quickly throw the towel away from me like it's on fire and it lands in the toilet. "Dammit, don't throw it in the toilet ~ Tara Sivec

You don't tell someone you're going to marry her. You ask."
He tried to kiss her again, but she turned her cheek, and he kissed her earlobe instead. "I asked your dad."
"You did?" She sounded breathless. "What did he say?"
"His exact words? 'Oh God, not another wedding. ~ Julie Garwood

What do you want to know, my pretty?" Gordoc asked, his expression one of puzzlement. "Do you want me to scare Merl off--thump him for you? Just tell him your Uncle Gordoc will have words with him if he offends you."

"No, no, I don't mean that." Tashi smiled. "He's not insulted me--at least, not by Eastern standards, I suppose." She wrinkled her nose.

"What's he done?" growled Ramil.

"Well, first there's the gifts--flowers and jewelry, mainly. What should I say when he gives me things?"

"Thank you' usually does the trick," said Gordoc ~ Julia Golding

Once you start thinking about the lies people tell when they don't know they're telling them, the truths people reveal when they think they're lying, then you can start to build a world. ~ Sarah Rees Brennan

I promised Gavin I'd be down a half hour ago." I lean toward him and whisper. "Come get me in fifteen minutes just in case I need to be saved."

"From whom?" Derrick flicks his wings. "Don't tell me you're already fighting with Kiaran after you and he had - "

"For god's sake." I glare at him. "Not Kiaran. Daniel. Or possibly Catherine. I still haven't told her we're leaving yet."

Derrick sputters a laugh. "You haven't . . . ? Oh, I can't wait to see that."

I glare at him. "Fifteen minutes."

"Thirty. I plan to eat everything on the food tables."

"You can eat them in ten. I'll give you twenty-five, just in case you need to go outside and vomit it all up."

He looks satisfied with that. "Deal. ~ Elizabeth May

Mrs. Indianapolis was in town again. She looked like a can of Sprite in her green and yellow outfit. She always likes to come down to the front desk just to chat. It was 4:04 am and thankfully I was awake and at the front desk when she got off the elevator and walked towards me. 

"Good morning, Jacob," she said.

"My name is Jarod," I replied.

"When did you change your name?"
"I was born Jarod, and I'll probably die. Maybe."

"You must be new here. You look like a guy named Jacob that used to work at the front desk."

"Nope, I'm not new. And there's no Jacob that's worked the front desk, nor anybody who looks or looked like me. How can I assist you, Mrs. Indianapolis?"

"I'd like to inform you that the pool is emitting a certain odor."

"What sort of odor?"

"Bleach."

"Ah, that's what we like to call chlorine. It's the latest craze in the sanitation of public pools. Between you and me, though, I think it's just a fad."

"Don't get sassy with me, young man. I know what chlorine is. I expect a clean pool when I go swimming. But what I don't expect is enough bleach to get the grass stain out of a shirt the size of Kentucky."

"That's not our policy, ma'am. We only use about as much chlorine as it would take to remove a coffee stain the size of Seattle from a light gray shirt the size of Washington."
"Jerry, I don't usually give advice to underlings, but I'm feeling charitable tonight. So I'll tell you that if yo ~ Jarod Kintz

When we wrote that scene about the Sleepy Kittens where he's reading the storybook to the kids, it's like we've had to read these stupid books to our kids, and we all want to just tell our kids, "This is really bad. Don't you know that? Can't you see that?" ~ Cinco Paul

Look at me, man, look at me and tell me I don't know what I'm about. I'm Conor Larkin. I'm an Irishman and I've had enough. ~ Leon Uris

Normal is subjective. Don't ever let anyone tell you you're not normal. ~ A.G. Howard

I tell you to slow down and you don't listen and I almost love what a cunt you can be because one of these days you're gonna tie me to a bed and slap me and lord over me the way you lord over all people who get in your way. You're so revved up and I want to play with you and I do. ~ Caroline Kepnes

I knew at the time that that wasn't the part I would be doing, they just wanted a screentest so they could have a look at it to show to the directors and producers. Then they wrote a part for me or maybe they already had it in mind, I don't know. ~ Dannii Minogue

An individualist town councillor will walk along the municipal pavement, lit by municipal gas and cleansed by municipal brooms with municipal water and - seeing by the municipal clock in the municipal market, that he is too early to meet his children coming from the municipal school, hard by the country lunatic asylum and the municipal hospital, will use the national telegraph system to tell them not to walk through the municipal park, but to come by the municipal tramway to meet him in the municipal reading-room, by the municipal museum, art-gallery, and library, where he intends ... to prepare his next speech in the municipal town hall in favor of the nationalization of canals and in increase of Government control of the railway system. "Socialism, Sir," he will say, "don't waste the time of a practical man by your fantastic absurdities. Self-help, Sir, individual self-help, that's what has made our city what it is. ~ Sidney Webb

This election is about the past vs. the future. It's about whether we settle for the same divisions and distractions and drama that passes for politics today or whether we reach for a politics of common sense and innovation, a politics of shared sacrifice and shared prosperity. There are those who will continue to tell us that we can't do this, that we can't have what we're looking for, that we can't have what we want, that we're peddling false hopes. But here is what I know. I know that when people say we can't overcome all the big money and influence in Washington, I think of that elderly woman who sent me a contribution the other day, an envelope that had a money order for $3.01 along with a verse of scripture tucked inside the envelope. So don't tell us change isn't possible. That woman knows change is possible. When I hear the cynical talk that blacks and whites and Latinos can't join together and work together, I'm reminded of the Latino brothers and sisters I organized with and stood with and fought with side by side for jobs and justice on the streets of Chicago. So don't tell us change can't happen. When I hear that we'll never overcome the racial divide in our politics, I think about that Republican woman who used to work for Strom Thurmond, who is now devoted to educating inner city-children and who went out into the streets of South Carolina and knocked on doors for this campaign. Don't tell me we can't change. Yes, we can. Yes, we can change. Yes, we can.
Barack Obama

Hope Obama