pages

Time will tell, I suppose, or at least, these pages will.

There is only as much space, only as much time, Only as much desire, only as many words, Only as many pages, only as much ink To accept all of us at light-speed Hurrying into the Promised Land Of oblivion that is waiting for us sooner or later.

Once you can write an alphabet, you can write a book of 100 million pages. It's just a matter of believing it as possible, and taking the cross millimetre by millimetre.

For if we're destroyed, the knowledge is dead...We're nothing more than dust jackets for books...so many pages to a person...

The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible

Well, this is basically the end, so the answers should be in these next few pages. I doubt they will surprise you, but you never know. I don't know how smart or thick you are. You could be Albert Einstein for all I know, or some literary prizewinner, or maybe you're just middle of the road like me.

I guess you can call me "old fashioned". I prefer the book with the pages that you can actually turn. Sure, I may have to lick the tip of my fingers so that the pages don't stick together when I'm enraptured in a story that I can't wait to get to the next page. But nothing beats the sound that an actual, physical book makes when you first crack it open or the smell of new, fresh printed words on the creamy white paper of a page turner.

She might not have read many books. But when she reads a book, she swallows the very words. If you open the books on her shelves, you will find that the front and back covers encase white pages.

I write for pages,get lost in the mezzaninehidden from stages.

Beginning a novel is always hard. It feels like going nowhere. I always have to write at least 100 pages that go into the trashcan before it finally begins to work. It's discouraging, but necessary to write those pages. I try to consider them pages -100 to zero of the novel.

On plenty of days the writer can write three or four pages, and on plenty of other days he concludes he must throw them away.

Every story needs some sort of secret that impels it forward. Otherwise why would the reader bother to keep on turning the pages?

love was never meant to bejust a metaphorbetween the pages of poetry.

When left alone with her, I ignored her and kept my eyes on my book, though I confess I turned over more pages than I read.

Like a forgotten old photograph, this dream will stay pressed, between the pages of a book you don__ feel like reading anymore.

But it has often happened that I have found the most seductive depictions of sin in the pages of those very men of incorruptible virtue who condemned their spell and their effects.

Wherever you see an empty life, or an empty page or an empty mind, add something good to it!

Welcome to Book-a-holic Anonymous.Hi, I'm Jazz and I am addicted to the written word. I love the smell of the blackest ink sliding across texture paper. My eyes squint against the loss of time within the pages of story. I don't think there's a cure for my compulsion to lose myself within life and times of those characters bound between the covers.