letter [Theme] Page 4

The hardest thing in love is to write something that does not feel. I mean - most likely to write: because all use the same words but have them not like it should, or rather, have them in order - and that's it. Re-read his letter: it is written so consistently that each phrase gives you head.

Don't write because you want to write. Write because you can't live without it.

Open Windows and hearts open,
And by smearing the universal carelessness
Look, like discarded paper
Through the prism of time you could see forever.

Write only a few lines. Write them to me. And I will translate them to all earthly languages, I will make them an epigraph to each book, I will repeat them with frost on every window, I will write them clouds in the sky, the blade of a silent love I'll cut it on the soft surface of your own heart.

She writes diary of a butterfly. Sadness about the other colors and the smile of the sun. On the transience of the day and its great importance for living before sunset. She writes diary of a butterfly, painting of multi-colored pollen dreams, which sees. She is so kind, so alive, so sincere writes about the same, on its only flight and a bright bright light ahead, which she's bound to get burned but will, on a moment - very happy. She says the smell of the sky. She shivers with delight and sings about love. She writes diary of a butterfly, and I... I don't read it. I smoke in the window, press a nausea and try to avoid looking at this shabby walls, ugly on the needle sticking out between the large beautiful wings.

Now I reread what I have written, and see that I'm much smarter written. How does it come about that expressed by a clever man is much more stupid than what is left in him?

He once said that you can't start writing until you can "verbally describe the table, his soul and his sexual identity".

The best way to organize and analyze the welter of recording on paper

Easy to write on ***s, but to write about a good woman is disproportionately more difficult.

Faceless, soulless font on screen, destroys all the charm of creativity. Whether it a manuscript: paper rustling, the creaking of the pen, every line - as a unique figure!

- In the Guesthouse you can write.
Tully, baby, you can't write anything worthwhile.

So let me get this straight? If you don't have time to read, then there is no time (and skill) for writing. It's simple.

If everything that I give the dead on paper, I would give up living in my life, I would be ugly (persist!) and she would put me in a madhouse.

The act of writing is the antidote and detoxification.