Where Are Your Stories Quotes

Why are you here?"
"To fetch the woman I cut from the veil of the rock."
"Why did you cut?"
"To send her spirit out, so that she would come to make the child, for me to teach to dance and sing and dream, to free the beasts within the rock to fill the world."
"Have you found her?"
"She is not here. There are only people horrible to see."
"Where are your stories?" said the other.
"I cannot tell them. My head is a cloud. ~ Alan Garner

In China there was more emphasis on listening, on asking questions rather than holding forth, on putting others' needs first. In the United States, he feels, conversation is about how effective you are at turning your experiences into stories, whereas a Chinese person might be concerned with taking up too much of the other person's time with inconsequential information. ~ Susan Cain

Well, now," Mrs. Havisham said, all but purring as she leaned forward, ample cleavage on display. "You've grown up, haven't you? Tell me, Gustavo. What are your thoughts on having an experienced lover?"
"Not many," Gus said. "In fact, none at all. Also? I came out when I was thirteen. You were there. As was the whole town. Pastor Tommy announced it at the Fall Harvest Festival. On stage. Into a microphone. There was apple pie afterward."
"Still?" she said with an exaggerated pout.
"Yes," Gus said, deadpan as he could make it. "Still. Funny how that works."
"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me," she said, dragging a pink fingernail down his arm. "My door is always open. Like my body."
"That's not even remotely healthy," Gus said with a sniff.
"Maybe that's why I need your protein," she said with a wink.
"Nope," Gus said. "Nope, nope, nope."
"You sure about that?"
"Maybe you should close that door. And your legs. ~ T.J. Klune

If you are far away from your lover and family, if you have lost someone, if you feel a bit displaced in your own life: these stories are for you. ~ Audrey Niffenegger

There was a girl, and her uncle sold her. Put like that it seems so simple.

No man, proclaimed Donne, is an island, and he was wrong. If we were not islands, we would be lost, drowned in each other's tragedies. We are insulated (a word that means, literally, remember, made into an island) from the tragedy of others, by our island nature and by the repetitive shape and form of the stories. The shape does not change: there was a human being who was born, lived and then by some means or other, died. There. You may fill in the details from your own experience. As unoriginal as any other tale, as unique as any other life. Lives are snowflakes- forming patterns we have seen before, as like one another as peas in a pod (and have you ever looked at peas in a pod? I mean, really looked at them? There's not a chance you'll mistake one for another, after a minute's close inspection) but still unique.

Without individuals we see only numbers, a thousand dead, a hundred thousand dead, "casualties may rise to a million." With individual stories, the statistics become people- but even that is a lie, for the people continue to suffer in numbers that themselves are numbing and meaningless. Look, see the child's swollen, swollen belly and the flies that crawl at the corners of his eyes, this skeletal limbs: will it make it easier for you to know his name, his age, his dreams, his fears? To see him from the inside? And if it does, are we not doing a disservice to his sister ~ Neil Gaiman

It's as if God gave you something-all those stories- and said, "Here you are. Try not to lose it." But children lose everything unless somebody is there to help them, and if your parents are too stupid to do it, maybe i ought to. ~ Stephen King

She paused before the fallen rider. He stared up at her from within a grimacing, battle stained face. Hatred and fear battled for supremacy in his eyes. Sasha met his gaze directly with a stare of utter contempt.
'Where are your gods now?' she said. ~ Joel Shepherd

You are constantly being trained to be heroic only in the service of your masters - only in slaughter and sacrifice and subjugation. But there is no heroism in serving your masters. Real heroism is questioning why you have masters at all.
All these stories, all these fantasies, all these superpowers - are designed to steal heroism from you, to make it impossible, fantastical, remote, and unachievable - and make you useful to your masters (as a hit man, if needed). What is the opposite of this?
The opposite of fantasy is philosophy. The opposite of mythology is integrity. And integrity is truth in action. ~ Stefan Molyneux

Fire runs through my body with the pain of loving you.
Pain runs through my body with the fires of my love for you.
Pain like a boil about to burst with my love for you.
Consumed by fire of my love for you.
I remember what you said to me,
I am thinking of your love for me.
I am torn by your love for me.
Pain and more pain.
Where are you going with my love?
I'm told you will go from here.
I'm told you will leave me here.
My body is numb with grief.
Remember what I said My Love
Goodbye My Love, goodbye. ~ Kwakiutl Indian

Say what you will about it, Hell is story friendly. If you want a compelling story, put your protagonist among the damned. The mechanisms of hell are nicely attuned to the mechanisms of narrative. Not so the pleasures of Paradise. Paradise is not a story. It's about what happens when the stories are over. ~ Charles Baxter

The same way that you are the main character of your story, you are only a secondary character in everybody else's story. ~ Don Miguel Ruiz

Don't seek to emulate other writers. Don't pay heed to how others say your tales should be written. And don't ever change your writing on account of anything or anyone. Your stories are your own, so write them your way. ~ Morgan Wright

Wishbone

Half-eaten chicken
lying on white serving plate
quartered potatoes
chunks of carrots
celery too
we tell stories
and laugh about the day
your little finger is locked around the wishbone
so is mine
I pretend to make a wish
close my eyes
mumbling my lips
that's the way I faked out the nuns
pretending to say the rosary
so they would leave me alone
your face is so determined
you win the wrestling match
lifting your piece of chicken bone above your head
in victory
I know better than to ask
what did you wish for
secret desires of the heart are not to be shared
or
they won't come true
everyone knows that
you clean the dishes
I turn on the TV
lying on the couch
listening to you make music
with running water
and closing cupboard doors. ~ Robert Hobkirk

You are your own journey. ~ A.D. Posey

When I go up there, which is my intention, the Big Judge will say to me, Where are your wounds? and if I say I haven't any, he will say, Was there nothing to fight for? I couldn't face that question. (Ah, But Your Land Is Beautiful) ~ Alan Paton

Know that there is so much more to you than your body. It's not just about perfecting the steps; you must trust your instincts to tell deep, emotional stories through the steps that you are performing. ~ Karen Kain

Poppies in July
Little poppies, little hell flames,
Do you do no harm?
You flicker. I cannot touch you.
I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns.
And it exhausts me to watch you
Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.
A mouth just bloodied.
Little bloody skirts!
There are fumes that I cannot touch.
Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules?
If I could bleed, or sleep!
If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!
Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule,
Dulling and stilling.
But colorless. Colorless. ~ Sylvia Plath

He glances over his shoulder, no doubt hearing my insanely loud shoes stop in their tracks. Then he looks again. It's a double take for the record books.

"I'm out stalking," I call. It doesn't come out the way I'd intended. It's not lighthearted or funny. It comes out like a warning. I'm one scary bitch right now. I hold my hands up to show I'm not armed. My heart is racing.

"Me too," he replies. Another cab cruises past like a shark.

"Where are you actually going?" My voice rings down the empty street.

"I just told you. I'm going out stalking."

"What, on foot?" I come closer by another six paces. "You were going to walk?"

"I was going to run down the middle of the street like the Terminator."

The laugh blasts out of me like bah.I'm breaking one of my rules by grinning at him, but I can't seem to stop.

"You're on foot, after all. Stilts." He gestures at my sky-high shoes.

"It gives me a few extra inches of height to look through your garbage."

"Find anything of interest?" He strolls closer and stops until we have maybe ten paces between us. I can almost pick up the scent of his skin.

"Pretty much what I was expecting. Vegetable scraps, coffee grounds, adult diapers. ~ Sally Thorne

If you are mesmerized by televised stupidity, and don't get to hear or read stories about your world, you can be fooled into thinking that the world isn't miraculous
and it is. ~ Anne Lamott

Kids, if anything, are harder to write for because they are a more discerning audience. They will not stay with you if you go off on a tangent or if you give them extraneous information that doesn't serve the story. You really have to tell a tight story. You have to give them humor and suspense and believable characters. All those things that adults want too, but you have to be really on your game when you're writing for kids. ~ Rick Riordan

Customer: Where are your fictional novels? ~ Jen Campbell

The Wizard Of Oz" has secrets that are just too much. Or "Peter Pan" – the whole 'lost boys' thing is just incredible. They're not childlike at all, they're really, really deep; you can rule your life by them. Or say 'child-like', because children are the most brilliant people of all, that's why they relate to those stories so well. Fairy-tales are wonderful. ~ Michael Jackson

My gripe is not with lovers of the truth but with truth herself. What succor, what consolation is there in truth, compared to a story? What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring like a bear in the chimney? When the lightning strikes shadows on the bedroom wall and the rain taps at the window with its long fingernails? No. When fear and cold make a statue of you in your bed, don't expect hard-boned and fleshless truth to come running to your aid. What you need are the plump comforts of a story. The soothing, rocking safety of a lie. ~ Diane Setterfield

Your turn in the chair next time," said October. "I know," said November. He was pale and thin-lipped. He helped October out of the wooden chair. "I like your stories. Mine are always too dark." "I don't think so," said October. "It's just that your nights are longer. And you aren't as warm." "Put it like that," said November, "and I feel better. I suppose we can't help who we are. ~ Neil Gaiman

Remember this, if you have written a couple dozen short stories and sold them to national markets, the chances are you know as much about the business as many of the editors you are trying to sell to. You are going to have to write what they want, but always be sure the paths they want you to take are reasonable. The chances are they know what is salable and they must be listened to. But only you can determine what is distinctly yours and that is your road to the ultimate success. Editors come and go constantly and the next man may love what the last man despised.

It's all taste and opinion and one man is different from the next. Mr. Faulkner might not appreciate Mr. Spillane, but that is also true in reverse.

None of this need concern you. Out there, beyond the lighted limits of the place you sit and type, somebody is waiting for the kind of thing you write. Writing can never be more than communication and should never be less.

So what do you do? You keep typing. ~ William Campbell Gault

Animula vagula blandula
Hospes comesque corporis
Quae nunc abibis? In Loca
Pallidula rigida nudula
nec ut soles dabis Iocos.
Little soul, you charming little wanderer, my body's guest and partner,
where are you off to now?
somewhere without colour, savage and bare;
You'll crack no more of your jokes once you're there. ~ Hadrian

Your daughter is gay? Where are all these gay people coming from? Gay friends. Gay daughters of friends. Gay sisters-in-law. Gay suspects. I ask one guy for a kiss and suddenly I'm living in Ancient Greece. ~ Dani Alexander

In TV, you can really get into not only great characters, but also the relationships. There are all of the backstories and all of the relationships that you have with every person in your life, and the relationships those people have with each other. It's just more dense and there's more time to tell stories. ~ Chris Pratt

So many of the models of courage we've had, ones that are still taught to boys and girls, are about going out to slay the dragon, to kill. It's a courage that's born out of fear, anger, and hate. But there's this other kind of courage. It's the courage to risk your life, not in war, not in battle, not out of fear ... but out of love and a sense of injustice that has to be challenged. It takes far more courage to challenge unjust authority without violence than it takes to kill all the monsters in all the stories told to children about the meaning of bravery. ~ Riane Eisler

Life is a story. You and I are telling stories; they may suck, but we are telling stories. And we tell stories about the things that we want. So you go through your bank account, and those are things you have told stories about. ~ Donald Miller

Put your glasses on mate ….. Come down from there, you're gonna kill yourself …. Well, what does your Method Statement say? …. Right, let's get you re-inducted. You need a reminder of site rules ….. Where are your outriggers, mate? ….. Put your glasses on ….. Put your glasses on …. Put your glasses on …. Oh, they steam up, do they? I've never heard that one before …. Where's your mask? If you breathe this shit in you're going to kill yourself. Silicosis is incurable ….. Right STOP! Do not reverse another inch without a banksman ….. Don't put your glasses on just because you see me walk around the corner. They won't protect MY eyes …. Hook yourself on, what's the matter with you? Are all you scaffolders superhuman or something? ….. Put your glasses on ….. Oi! What stops me walking right in there? Where's your barriers and signage? ….. Oi! I'm getting showered in fucking sparks here. And so is that can of petrol ….. Put your glasses on …. Where's the flashback arrestor on this bottle of propane? ….. Hey, pal, stop welding until you've sheeted up ….. What are you doing climbing up there? Where's your supervisor? What did he say about access in this morning's Safe Start briefing? Nothing? Right, he can sit through another induction tomorrow ….. Where are the retaining pins to the joint clamps in this concrete pump line? SEAMUS! Fucking deal with this, will you? ….Put your glasses on …. Hey! Hey! Come here! Why have you got a nail instead of an 'R' clip to the quick-hitch system o ~ Karl Wiggins

Maybe instead of strings it's stories things are made of, an infinite number of tiny vibrating stories; once upon a time they all were part of one big giant superstory, except it got broken up into a jillion different pieces, that's why no story on its own makes any sense, and so what you have to do in a life is try and weave it back together, my story into your story, our stories into all the other people's we know, until you've got something that to God or whoever might look like a letter, or even a whole word ... ~ Paul Murray

I'm sure you're just dying to tell me all the campus gossip about me. Right?"
"I do have a life. Maybe I've been too busy to listen to rumors," he huffed, pretending to have hurt feelings.
I looked at him.
He sighed. "Okay, you win. I'm bored out of my skull. Second Magician is busy playing detective, and Gelsi is neck-deep in some project and I never see her anymore." Dax paused dramatically. "My life is so boring that I have to live vicariously through your adventures."
"And since the rumors are so accurate - "
"Your adventures have turned into legends." He swept his arms wide, laughing. "So where are you off to now? Going to slay a dragon? Can Itag along as your lowly squire? I'll polish your staff of power every night with my shirt. I promise."
"I'm glad my problems are keeping you entertained, ~ Maria V. Snyder

Stanford University's psychologist Carol Dweck and her colleagues have discovered that what you believe about intellectual ability - whether you think it's a fixed gift, or an earned ability that can be developed - makes a difference to your behavior, persistence, and performance. Students who see ability as fixed - as a gift - are more vulnerable to setbacks and difficulties. And stereotypes, as Dweck rightly points out, "are stories about gifts - who has them and who doesn't." Dweck and her colleagues are shown that when students are encouraged to see math ability as something that grows with effort - pointing out, for example, that the brain forges new connections and develops better ability every time they practice a task - grades improve and gender gaps diminish (relative to groups given control interventions). ~ Cordelia Fine

We are contemporary citizens living in a technological world. Swimming in crosscultural waters can be dangerous, and if you are honest you can't stay there very long. Sooner or later you have to look at your own reflection and decide what to do with yourself.
We are urban people. We make periodic pilgrimages to the country ... If we align ourselves with the spirit of place we will find humility fused with joy.
The land holds stories. ~ Terry Tempest Williams