Quotes about literature-about-literature
Literature-about-literature, often referred to as metafiction or literary criticism, is a fascinating exploration of the art of storytelling itself. This genre delves into the intricate layers of narrative, examining how stories are constructed, interpreted, and appreciated. It represents a self-reflective journey where literature turns its gaze inward, offering insights into the creative process, the role of the author, and the dynamic relationship between text and reader. People are drawn to quotes about literature-about-literature because they provide a deeper understanding of the mechanics behind the stories that captivate us. These quotes often reveal the hidden architecture of narrative, sparking curiosity and encouraging readers to think critically about the books they love. They invite us to ponder the power of words and the impact of storytelling on our lives, making us more aware of the nuances and complexities that define great literature. In essence, literature-about-literature enriches our reading experience, offering a lens through which we can appreciate the artistry and craftsmanship that go into creating the worlds we escape into.
Sometimes, I marvel at the wonderof how graceful words seem to appearpen to paper; in others' handsAnd I think to myself-oh, how obsolete my existence is,to be unable to do the same.
The force of Dante's poetry resonated most in those who did not confess the Catholic faith, for believers would inevitably have quibbles with Dante's theology. But for those most distant theologically, Dante's faith was so perfect, so unyielding, that a reader found himself compelled by the poetry to take it all to heart.
A few birds flew out from the mountains and glided for a while without sound. Standing out against the sky on high slopes beyond a range of low hills, they saw an endless herd of deer, rendered mute by distance. The landscape was reminiscent of a cardboard cutout, but on a huge scale, which gave the impression they were the ones who had become miniatures…All three of them were equally lost.
Poison or elixir, narcotic or aphrodisiac, whatever it was, this flower, relic of a day in the life of an accidental writer, an inadvertent counterfeiter leaving his traces in code, the birds were coming to try it, performing a dance for no one and flying up toward the moon.
All the things he did not see... (a black bear, two hawks, horsemen, a trio of summer cabins far below him...)
We must thank fate (and the author’s thirst for universal fame) for his not having turned to the Ukrainian dialect as a medium of expression, because then he would have been lost. When I want a good nightmare I imagine Gogol penning in Little Russian dialect volume after volume of Dikanka and Mirgorod stuff about ghosts haunting the banks of the Dniepr, burlesque Jews and dashing Cossacks.
Our receptivity to praise stands in no relationship to our vulnerability to mean disdain and spiteful abuse. No matter how stupid such abuse is, no matter how plainly impelled by private rancors, as an expression of hostility it occupies us far more deeply and lastingly than praise. Which is very foolish, since enemies are, of course, the necessary concomitant of any robust life, the very proof of its strength.
A obra literária é uma dessas mínimas porções nas quais o existente se cristaliza numa forma, adquire um sentido, que não é fixo, nem definido, nem enrijecido numa imobilidade mineral, mas tão vivo quanto um organismo.
Se ciò che ci distingue dagli altri membri del regno animale è la parola, allora la letteratura - e la poesia, in particolare, è la sua forma più alta - è, per dirla senza mezzi termini, lo scopo della nostra specie.