Tag Archives: blog.seocopywriting

To work

“I mean to work tremendously hard.”
Fyodor Dostoyevsky (November 11, 1821–February 9, 1881)

There is no place for arrogance in the teaching. The only thing is changing the world of your students.

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William Clarke Rice, “The Four Seasons” (1923)

A library

I use a library the same way I’ve been describing the creative process as a writer — I don’t go in with lists of things to read, I go in blindly and reach up on shelves and take down books and open them and fall in love immediately. And if I don’t fall in love that quickly, shut the book, back on the shelf, find another book, and fall in love with it. You can only go with loves in this life.
Ray Bradbury

Art by Rob Gonsalves.

On writing stories

“Writers pocket these moments and pull them out to look at later under a lamp with a notebook. This is fine with me—it’s magpie stealing. It is general and gestural and often sweet.”
Courtenay Bluebird on writing stories

Art by Leonora Carrington.

Whatever form…

“We have given you, O Adam, no visage proper to yourself, nor endowment properly your own, in order that whatever place, whatever form, whatever gifts you may, with premeditation, select, these same you may have and possess through your own judgement and decision.
Pico della Mirandola

Art by William Blake.

A List of Wounds at Medium.com

A List of Wounds

by Iulia Halatz (medium.com/@iuliahalatz)

We are all broken flowers
We have seen the moon smiling
The waves crashing
The shimmer and thunder of springs
The blazing lightning of pain
When regluing the chinks in our hearts
a hundredfold again…

We have seen the tremble of a leaf
in mid-November
When it falls
and lies defeated
like giant spiky stones
we shuffle our feet on
and bleed…

How do you heal a wound?
First you burn it
in agonizing awe
Then you stitch it
with words in threads
that last
more than the last
Spring

© Iulia Halatz
https://medium.com/resistance-poetry/a-list-of-wounds-fb6ae48cf094

Art by Vladimir Kush.

It was November

It was November ~ the month of crimson sunsets, parting birds, deep, sad hymns of the sea, passionate wind-songs in the pines.
– L.M. Montgomery

It was November ~ the month of promiscuous trees, turbulent moons dressed up in haze, opal leaves layering the smock of earth.
© Iulia Halatz

Art by Charles Vess.