spacettf:

Full Lunar Eclipse of October 8th 2014 from Cockscomb Peak, Yosemite National Park by Grant Kaye on Flickr.

Writers don’t make any money at all. We make about a dollar. It is terrible. But then again we don’t work either. We sit around in our underwear until noon then go downstairs and make coffee, fry some eggs, read the paper, read part of a book, smell the book, wonder if perhaps we ourselves should work on our book, smell the book again, throw the book across the room because we are quite jealous that any other person wrote a book, feel terribly guilty about throwing the schmuck’s book across the room because we secretly wonder if God in heaven noticed our evil jealousy, or worse, our laziness. We then lie across the couch facedown and mumble to God to forgive us because we are secretly afraid He is going to dry up all our words because we envied another man’s stupid words. And for this, as I said, we are paid a dollar. We are worth so much more.

– Donald Miller (via writingquotes)
spacettf:

Rising Milky Way over Tokachidake Mountain Range by kaz under the sky on Flickr.

I do not share the pessimism of the age about the novel. They are one of our greatest spiritual, aesthetic and intellectual inventions. As a species it is story that distinguishes us, and one of the supreme expressions of story is the novel. Novels are not content. Nor are they are a mirror to life or an explanation of life or a guide to life. Novels are life, or they are nothing.

Richard Flanagan, on accepting the Man Booker Prize for The Narrow Road to the Deep North. (via mcnallyjackson)
countingbooks:

"Why do we write fiction?"
To disappear

countingbooks:

"Why do we write fiction?"

To disappear

(via housingworksbookstore)

spacettf:

Lunar Eclipse Moon Set Behind the Minarets by Jeffrey Sullivan on Flickr.
wordpainting:

Always.

wordpainting:

Always.

(Source: weheartit.com)