paper

Block of wood, gives you a big bunch of paper, but it doesn't make it worthy as a piece of mind on single paper.

The letter we all love to receive is one that carries so much of the writer__ personality that she seems to be sitting beside us, looking at us directly and talking just as she really would, could she have come on a magic carpet, instead of sending her proxy in ink-made characters on mere paper.

Let your heart dance with pen and paperNow fill the paper with dancing letters.

A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child's kiss. It flutters a piece of paper. "Trash, out there? Must belong to one of us." We move closer, and when I reached for it, I find...... a perfect paper airplane.

And everything was made of paper: sentences, pardons, pleas, bad records, demerits, proof of guilt, but never, it seemed, proof of innocence. If there were no paper, Carter felt, the entire judicial system would collapse and disappear.

Give a typical employee a million, and, he is most likely to use the money to print his CV on fancier paper.

A letter to the beloved is like the ink kissing the paper. (Une lettre _ l'aimée, c'est - L'encre embrassant le papier)

In an age of infinite digital documentation, paper was the last safe place for secrets.

If you don't imagine, nothing ever happens at all

Like a warrior in the battlefield, a writer must endeavour to use his pen to stamp the paper with his identity.

Each day hands me a clean sheet of paper upon which to write. Therefore, I would be wise to write without ever having the need to erase.

Writing is a competition between the writer and the page. When the page wins, you fail as a writer.

Every book has its ancestors

I am sorry, I am not a writer. I simply put my thoughts on paper. Those helped by them call them a book and me a writer. Those who are not helped call it rubbish and me a fool. Both have reason.

Writing is exposing yourself to strangers

One day I will write a book. An epitaph

The ink line drawing flowed the cursive journey,created on paper canvas that brought the story to life.

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.