Richelle E. Goodrich

Few realize how loud their expressions really are. Be kind with what you wordlessly say.

Words never fade away but echo on for eternity. Let your echo ring sweet.

I bleed words.I dream in narrative. I live in infinite worlds.I befriend figmental characters.I wish on stars in other galaxies.I harvest stories from a brooding muse.I bloom under moonlight in hushed seclusion.I am a writer.

Your efforts extend like ripples on the ocean, much further than you know.

Writers possess magic. It's in their w

The only way to change the world is to quit thinking it's a job for Superman. Real power lies in your own hands.

A thought can prompt. Words can stir. But it takes action to attain a dream.

Words that should cross your lips with ease: thank you, love you, sorry, please.

Words have less substance than air. Don't tell me about your zealous dreams, your firm convictions, your profound love__how me.

A picture may be worth a thousand words, but those well-arranged words are worth a multi-million-dollar motion picture.

Hope is a fire more ravenous than the flames of temptation. _For if only a portion of it poisons your veins, it is enough to make you stand against ridiculous odds again and again and again.

You stand a better chance of bringing pretend to life through the power of belief than you stand any chance of erasing what's real by refusing to believe.

Hope is the fuel within all human souls.Eliminate hope__othing moves, nothing grows.

You made a choice__ single choice. How neat to think you may have opened the door to a wondrous future without knowing.

Something wonderful is about to happen, and something awful is about to happen. You can dwell on either one. It__ your choice.

Authors always carry a means for scribbling and an excuse for pausing, often inopportunely, to record those fleeting sparks of creative fancy that might otherwise vanish like a wisp in the wind if ignored. _Writing is a jealous and needy lover.

No matter how hard they try, they'll never create anything so perfectly beautiful as what plays out in my own imagination.

Some build their castles 'mid thunderbolts and fireworks. My worlds take shape in silence.