About Writing Quotes

“I prefer to be on the side of losers, the misunderstood or lonely people rather than writing about the strong and powerful.”
― Núria Añó

“There's power in stories, though. That's all history is: the best tales. The ones that last. Might as well be mine.”
― Varric Tethras

“Look seeker, if you love a character, you give them pain, ruin their lives, make them suffer. Maybe even throw in a heroic death!”
― Varric Tethras

“I wanted to leave behind more than emptiness. So I wrote.”
― Ayushee Ghoshal

“So many men, so little time.”
― Heather Holland

“Beautiful and its nice you bring light out from your dark diamond”
― Imran Shaikh

“Everything starts with a little truth, then I spin my webs around it-sometimes I spin completely from it. But the point it, I don't start with nothing.”
― Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl

“Writing is not about how well you can write the next "Great American Novel," using flawless grammar and snooty punctuation; sometimes, it's only about making someone smile, or laugh out loud. Sometimes, its sharing a fun thought, or putting a vivid life experience on paper so others' can share a great moment that had an impact on you, the author.”
― T. Hammond

“We live and breathe words...but writing them down makes you escape into new worlds. Only those who write would understand.”
― April Mae Monterrosa

“John Turner lived at Saltersford Hall, where his father was a tenant farmer. He was born in 1706 and became a packman, or jagger, with a train of four horses. His main occupation was from Chester and Northwich, carrying salt, to Derby, from where he would return with malt. His home in Saltersford was ideally placed on this prehistoric trade route.

On Christmas Eve, 1735, (that is, when John was twenty-nine), he was on his way back from Northwich. It was snowing. But packmen were used to being on the road in all weathers and at all hours. They knew the hills better than anyone. They took no risks. Jaggers were essential to their communities and yet at the same time mistrusted. Travel in eighteenth century England was not for ordinary folk. Most people didn’t move more than four miles from their birthplace in their entire lives. Jaggers were looked on as boundary-striders, as Grendel is described in Beowulf, wild men, wodwose, as in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. They belonged more to the hills than to the valleys. Yet on that Christmas Eve, John Turner did not reach home. The next morning he was found dead, though his team of horses survived, covered by drifts. And by him, on the white, wind-smoothed land, was the single print of a woman’s shoe in the snow.”
― Alan Garner, The Voice That Thunders