#Beautiful Writing
Quotes about beautiful-writing
Beautiful writing is an art form that transcends mere words on a page, capturing the essence of human experience with elegance and grace. It represents the power of language to evoke emotions, paint vivid imagery, and convey profound truths. This tag encompasses the delicate balance between form and content, where the rhythm of sentences and the choice of words create a symphony that resonates with readers. People are drawn to quotes about beautiful writing because they offer a glimpse into the soul of the writer, revealing insights that are both universal and deeply personal. These quotes serve as a source of inspiration, reminding us of the beauty that can be found in the written word and the impact it can have on our lives. Whether it's a poignant metaphor, a striking turn of phrase, or a simple yet profound observation, beautiful writing has the power to move us, challenge us, and connect us to the shared human experience. In a world where communication is often rushed and superficial, quotes about beautiful writing invite us to pause, reflect, and appreciate the artistry and craftsmanship that goes into creating something truly memorable.
It was pouring earlier, great sheets of rain, and now the clouds outside the window are crystal tipped like mountain peaks in the sky, rays emanating downward like an illustration in a children's bible.
The whistle dropped from the branch's spindly fingers like a black cocoon, a pendulum of secret music; the wind pushed sound soundlessly around.
In the bush he taught the knots I use to tie my blanket to my saddle Ds also the way I stand to use a carpenter's plane and the trick of catching fish with a bush fly and a strip of greenhide these things are like the dark marks made in the rings of great trees locked forever in my daily self.
Holy and pure are the drops that fall, When the young bride goes from her father's hall; She goes unto love yet untried and new— She parts from love which hath still been true.
Pale as a candle flame in the dusk, tallow-pale, he stalked along, holding her hand, and Louie looked up and beyond him at the enfeebled stars. Thus, for many years, she had seen her father's head, a ghostly earth flame against the heavens, from her little height. Sam looked down on the moon of her face; the dayshine was enough still to light the eyeballs swimming up to him.
And still the light kept coming. It poured out of me, boundless and violent. But even as it swelled, it didn't leave me. I felt myself moving with it, a part of it, moving through earth and air, soaking up shadow. And I felt connected to everything. I felt the city, the motion of engines and tires and feet, of doors opening, of throats trembling with sound. I smelled soil and snow, grease, garbage, sweat, breath, heat. I felt the earth, and everything beneath and Beneath.
Lua and Marie are holding hands.They look like they’re so happy, just inside this moment, watching the kids and the lights on their old fibro house.Lua kisses her.Just softly on the lips.And she kisses back.Sometimes people are beautiful.Not in looks.Not in what they say.Just in what they are.
Something wrong?""No." David's voice was low and full of emotion. "I just wanted to look at you.""What do you see?""My future.
The sun was trembling on the brink of the world, the shadows at their longest, and they still had several kilometers to go.