The writing arrives when it wants to. There is nothing you can do about it. You can’t squeeze more writing out of the living than is there.
– Charles Bukowski
Charles Bukowski: On Writing
Writing, finally, even becomes work especially if you are trying to pay the rent and child support with it. But it is the finest work and the only work, and it’s a work that boosts your ability to live and your ability to live pays you back with your ability to create. One feeds the other, it is all very magic.
– Charles Bukowski
So you want be a writer? – Charles Bukowski — Sniffin Poetry
if it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don’t do it.
via So you want be a writer? – Charles Bukowski — Sniffin Poetry
“Very often we write down a sentence too early, then another too late; what we have to do is…” — Art of Quotation
“Very often we write down a sentence too early, then another too late; what we have to do is write it down at the proper time, otherwise it’s lost” Thomas Bernhard, writer, playwright, poet, novelist, book quote from “Concrete”
POEMS BY JACQUES PRÉVERT — sisyphus
JACQUES PRÉVERT – 1900 : 1977 For a poet – for any kind of writer – English is a seductive language. With a vocabulary that is rich in synonyms way beyond reasonable need, wrapped up in a mind-boggling and jaw-busting complexity of conjugational structure, it seems almost mean-spirited to resist its blandishments. Small wonder […]
Blaise Cendrars — memory of a bird (and a thousand words)
‘Je suis un homme inquiet, dur vis à vis de soi-même, comme tous les solitaires.’ (…)
Cendrars knows only the reality and honesty of the heart. His gestures, often rough and awkward, are nevertheless manly gestures. He never tries to please or to conciliate. He is the worst diplomat in the world, and consequently […]’
via Blaise Cendrars — memory of a bird (and a thousand words)
Kenneth Rexroth – Miroir vide — BEAUTY WILL SAVE THE WORLD
Tant que nous vivons perdus Dans le règne de la finalité Nous ne sommes pas libres. Je m’assois Dans ma cabane de dix mètres carrés. Chant des oiseaux. Bourdonnement des abeilles. Frémissement des feuilles. Murmure De l’eau sur les rochers. Le canyon m’enserre. Au moindre geste, la grenouille de Basho Sauterait dans la mare. Tout […]
via Kenneth Rexroth – Miroir vide — BEAUTY WILL SAVE THE WORLD
Rainer Maria Rilke — The Vale of Soul-Making
For the Sale of a Single Poem Ah, poems amount to so little when you write them too early in your life. You ought to wait and gather sense and sweetness for a whole lifetime, and a long one if possible, and then, at the very end, you might perhaps be able to write ten […]
Perec – On Writing
Can I measure some of the road I have travelled? Have I achieved some of the aims that I set myself, if I ever really did one day set myself aims ? Can I say today that I am what I wanted to be in the old days? I don’t ask myself whether the world in which I live answers my aspirations, for as soon as I’ve answered no, I shan’t have the impression of having progressed any further. But does the life I lead in it correspond to what I wanted, to what I expected?
– Georges Perec in Species of Space and Other Pieces, Edited and Translated with an Introduction by John Sturrock, Penguin Twentieth-Century Classics, Penguin Books, 1997.
Perec – On Writing
To begin with, it all seems simple: I wanted to write, and I’ve written. By dint of writing, I’ve become a writer, for myself alone first of all and for a long time, and today for others. In principle, I no longer have any need to justify myself (either in my own eyes or in the eyes of others). I’m a writer, that’s an acknowledged fact , a datum, self-evident, a definition. I can write or not write, I can go for several weeks or several months without writing, or write ‘well’ or ‘badly’, that alters nothing, it doesn’t make my activity as a writer into a parallel or complementary activity. I do nothing else but write (except earn the time to write), I don’t know how to do anything else … I write in order to live and live in order to write …
– Georges Perec in Species of Space and Other Pieces, Edited and Translated with an Introduction by John Sturrock, Penguin Twentieth-Century Classics, Penguin Books, 1997.
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