Prose Quotes

She could smell damprot, high, sweet, and cloying. She could smell madness like dead vegetables in a dark cellar.

~ Stephen King

He didn’t like the way things were going.There were bad omens in the wind, evil portents like bats fluttering in the dark loft of a deserted barn.

~ Stephen King

Saturated Arrogance...she rebuked those about herin darkness did she dwella pathetic historyall mortal man would tell..

~ Muse

Writing should beguile us, not just take us from A to B to Zzzzz

~ Kevin Ansbro

When the others were picked up and walked home by friends or fathers or best friend’s sisters,I was the kid in a grey hoodie, walking with the poets, the singers, the thinkers, and I was not alone.

~ Charlotte Eriksson

Closed eyescan't sacrifice a third timei may never knowA dreamer's dreammy stars are onlymade of goldCame into this life holding onWas it a dream Or life lived beforeAlien genetics Formed on the 7thToo late So i was turned awayToo lateBut i seen those gatesIt’s just latelyi’ve forgot the wayWhat am i saying?somewhere out there is a starCovered in goldlaugh, its okayit's just best i wait this time can't sacrifice a third timehow will i knowfeverish devils place their bets the abyss or the flameBut at the edgei stop & look to the skytonight I find the stars are covered in gold so right here i will just stayHere i’ll just remain in a place where time and space does not existbut a gateway to Sarin does covered in golddeep in the chest you appearjust like I always knewa distant star

~ Greg C Warner

...flames moved towards himand dropped within-singed and marred his tender skin ...(the frightful plight tale)

~ Muse

Do You BelieveDo you believethat I have loved yousince the dawn of time?Do you believethat we were destinedto be intertwined?...

~ Muse

Do You Believe...on this road of lifeon this dayI take younow husband and wife...

~ Muse

Ode to the Chamber...linger here amidst the chamberin which we embrace our lovetalk to me of sonnetsand call me turtledove...

~ Muse

The Bane...where coxswain's dirtand seaman's shirtsbrushed bawdily upon her chest...

~ Muse

Cradle of SolitudeFor we know not why our tribulationsare given as suchour fragile formscreated from the dust...

~ Muse

Parched by the deprivation of your love for so long made me forget what a cup brimming with love, on my lips, felt like. Everything that now wets it, only wrinkles it with a bland taste.

~ Abhita Jain

The Waterfall and the SeaHer love and passion are a waterfall, fed from the wellspring of her heart,gently tumbling into a pool, preparing herself to share her gifts.His passion and love are like the sea, deep and wide, waiting mysteriously,Patiently he awaits her, calling out through time and spaceShe hears his call, her pool overflowing.Her love and passion gushing over her banks she rushes toward himWinding and twisting she finds her way, destined to reach his shoresHe awaits her arrival as she opens her delta and his tide comes inTheir waters mingle every molecule of her river with his seaForever mixing and sharing their passion and love in that place betweenThe Waterfall and the Sea

~ Christopher Earle

I tended to find lines of poetry beautiful only when I encountered them quoted in prose, in the essays my professors had assigned in college, where the line breaks were replaced with slashes, so that what was communicated was less a particular poem than the echo of poetic possibility. Insofar as I was interested in the arts, I was interested in the disconnect between my experience of actual artworks and the claims made on their behalf; the closest I'd come to having a profound experience of art was probably the experience of this distance, a profound experience of the absence of profundity.

~ Ben Lerner

Each of us carries a room within ourselves, waiting to be furnished and peopled, and if you listen closely, you may need to silence everything in your own room, you can hear the sounds of that other room inside your head.

~ Susan Sontag

What is above all needed is to let the meaning choose the word, and not the other way around. In prose, the worst thing you can do with words is to surrender to them.

~ George Orwell

I just wish you could see my demons for what they are, and lay here beside me on the floor. No words. Just your presence.

~ Charlotte Eriksson

You were the poem I never knew how to write because no words could describe the wind you cannot see, but feel.

~ Shannon L. Alder

A man cannot impart the true feeling of things to others unless he himself has experienced what he is trying to tell of.

~ Jack Kerouac

Feelings that would not have disgraced a leader who, now that the snow has begun to fall and the mountain-top is covered in mist, knows that he must lay himself down and die before morning comes, stole upon him, paling the colour of his eyes, giving him, even in the two minutes of his turn on the terrace, the bleached look of withered old age. Yet he would not die lying down; he would find some crag of rock, and there, his eyes fixed on the storm, trying to the end to pierce the darkness, he would die standing. He would never reach R.

~ Virginia Woolf

Sometimes the universe works in a really weird way. You hate the people who love you, and you love the people who just aren't really that into you. And then there are those who love you as you love them, but fate just decides that you're not meant to be.

~ Altruistic

The snow was too light to stay, the ground too warm to keep it. And the strange spring snow fell only in that golden moment of dawn, the turning of the page between night and day.

~ Shannon Hale

It was quite a beautiful thing, the way we simply just came to be, with no effort or trying and slowly we found each other’s hands in the dark. No chains or promises, just a simple sign of hopethat things will go on and get betterand that things and people and views are still out there, yet to be found.

~ Charlotte Eriksson

I gripped against her like she was metal and I was all full of lightning, charged up and jagged and of that moment alone.

~ Chris Howard

...and I laugh and I spin and dance and frolic in ecstasy and I... I hurt no more, while you...you petrified little man, are left to wonder if it's you I speak of.

~ Kellie Elmore

Watch me go. Watch me. Because you said i couldn't. Because you thought I wouldn't. Go on, cry now. Cry.

~ Kellie Elmore

I’m fighting my way into existence, and I will keep doing so until the end of time.

~ Charlotte Eriksson

So you will meet many ’someones’ who will give a new definition to your name. And you can not build walls, must not close the door and please don’t hide,because if you ask me about hurt and loveI will say love. Love because the hurt will come and go no matter what, but only love makes it worth while. Only love can cure it. Don’t be scared. Go. Love.

~ Charlotte Eriksson

Poems, even when narrative, do not resemble stories. All stories are about battles, of one kind or another, which end in victory or defeat. Everything moves towards the end, when the outcome will be known.Poems, regardless of any outcome, cross the battlefields, tending the wounded, listening to the wild monologues of the triumphant or the fearful. They bring a kind of peace. Not by anaesthesia or easy reassurance, but by recognition and the promise that what has been experienced cannot disappear as if it had never been. Yet the promise is not of a monument. (Who, still on a battlefield, wants monuments?) The promise is that language has acknowledged, has given shelter, to the experience which demanded, which cried out.

~ John Berger

And perhaps, I'm a Tuesday night and you're a Wednesday morning the way we'll never even notice how we blend into each other.

~ Danabelle Gutierrez

When he asks you whyyou chose alone all these years.Tell him that it’s becauseyou love with all claws and bared teeth.Apologize for the scratchesthat you will leave on his skin;ask forgiveness for the bite marks.Tell him you never ever mean to love so hard, but you do.

~ Danabelle Gutierrez

Decades from now, my grandchild is going to be a poet... And she's going to write about how she's a living testament to how her grandmother made love to hurricane and calmed the storm.

~ Danabelle Gutierrez

The city they are building asks you to stay; remind yourself what is worth keeping, while the lighthouse of your moan warns the ship of your heart that he is a stone.

~ Mikl Paul

It doesn’t matter how many times you leave, it will always hurt to come back and remember what you once had and who you once were. Then it will hurt just as much to leave again, and so it goes over and over again. Once you’ve started to leave, you will run your whole life.

~ Charlotte Eriksson

Maybe I live in the gates that lead to outbound international flights. Maybe that is home.And do I feel more comfortable at the departures or at the arrivals?

~ Michal Coret

It has been a Prosy day for us, but for some people it has been a wonderful day. Someone was rapturously happy in it. Perhaps a great deed has been done somewhere today- a great poem written- or a great man born. And some heart has been broken, Phil.

~ L.m. Montgomery

I like pros, especially when it comes to tennis and rent boys” — and here I’m really wondering if the pun on prose consolidates Bruce’s feeling toward it versus poetry under the sign of sex, which Bruce sometimes pays for, in order to direct us toward the pleasure of its use-function when monetised, a pleasure seldom associated with poetry, and one that might lead to the company of more pros. He continues: “If I can get a twofer, and the trick looks like Rafael Nadal, I’m in heaven.

~ Andrew Durbin

I don’t need anyone else to distract me from myself anymore, like I always thought I would.

~ Charlotte Eriksson

What is this thing? trading passions for a tiny bit of acceptance.

~ Charlotte Eriksson