kyleschen

A real writer learns from earlier writers the way a boy learns from an apple orchard — by stealing what he has a taste for, and can carry off.

The more circumspectly you delay writing down an idea, the more maturely developed it will be on surrendering itself.

By far the greatest thing is to be a master of metaphor. It is the one thing that cannot be learned from others. It is a sign of genius, for a good metaphor implies an intuitive perception of similarity among dissimilars.

The original writer is not one who imitates nobody, but one whom nobody can imitate.

Every form has its own meaning. Every man creates his meaning and form and goal. Why is it so important—what others have done? Why does it become sacred by the mere fact of not being your own? Why is anyone and everyone right—so long as it’s not yourself? Why does the number of those others take the place of truth? Why is truth made a mere matter of arithmetic—and only of addition at that? Why is everything twisted out of all sense to fit everything else? There must be some reason. I don’t know. I’ve never known it. I’d like to understand.

Don’t only practice your art, but force your way into its secrets, for it and knowledge can raise men to the divine.

When you start a painting, it is somewhat outside you. At the conclusion, you seem to move inside the painting.

I merely took the energy it takes to pout and wrote some blues.

Holding back is so close to stealing.