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"How many writers still dare compare a woman to Nature, like Campion? - there is a garden in her face - how lovely..."
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"Shakespeare shook his head and sunk his chin into his ruff, making him look more owl-like than ever. "I have written about other worlds often enough. I have said what I can say. There are many kinds of reality. This is but one kind."
"Pages entertain me more than pictures do."
"I read to know the past, I write to express my love for the future."
"I don't know where people got the idea that characters in books are supposed to be likable. Books are not in the business of creating merely likeable characters with whom you can have some simple identification with. Books are in the business of creating great stories that make you're brain go ahhbdgbdmerhbergurhbudgerbudbaaarr."
"This philistinism of interpretation is more rife in literature than in any other art. For decades now, literary critics have understood it to be their task to translate the elements of the poem or play or novel or story into something else. Sometimes a writer will be so uneasy before the naked power of his art that he will install within the work itself - albeit with a little shyness, a touch of the good taste of irony - the clear and explicit interpretation of it. Thomas Mann is an example of such an overcooperative author. In the case of more stubborn authors, the critic is only too happy to perform the job."
"Literature is where I go to explore the highest and lowest places in human society and in the human spirit, where I hope to find not absolute truth but the truth of the tale, of the imagination, and of the heart."
"To think that realistic fiction is by definition superior to imaginative fiction is to think imitation is superior to invention."
"A book is as private and consensual as sex."
"Books-they weren't ladders out of the abyss, but they were companions."
Explore more quotes by John Geddes
"I always thought youth were idealists - now, I'm not so sure - I'm more idealistic now then at 17..."
"You want things to remain the same, which they never can, and so you're wounded by your own feelings & resentful others don't seem to care..."
"Last night, lost in spaces between star-bays and lakes of clouds, I tossed and turned looking for you."
"Yes I understand your spells-your sex magic-at least, I know this: all lights dim when you walk in..."
"I see you as series of gestures, a palette of colors -all these tiny tiles pixelate, and then coalesce... into the idea of you..."
"When you're hard and unyielding your words score me with lines - I hate lines - I want curves - curves are happy like a snowman ..."
"I lost my illusions in a black rain of bitterness - now what do you see in my eyes? How can you still love me? How can I be tender? ..."
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