But how awful would that be? How terrible to live surrounded by the stark, sharp, hollowness of things that simply were enough?
Patrick RothfussRead
If I could sum it up in 50 words, I wouldn't have needed to write a whole novel about it.
Interpretation
This quote humorously suggests that complex thoughts require detailed expression rather than a brief summary.
Patrick Rothfuss uses this quote to illustrate the idea that the intricacies of human experiences and stories cannot be easily encapsulated in a few words. The value of a novel lies in its ability to explore deeper themes, characters, and emotions, hence the necessity of longer forms of expression.
In practice
In a literary discussion group while analyzing the depth of a novel.
But how awful would that be? How terrible to live surrounded by the stark, sharp, hollowness of things that simply were enough?
I wanted to tell her that she was the first beautiful thing I had seen in three years. That the sight of her yawning to the back of her hand was enough to drive the breath from me. How I sometimes lost the sense of her words in the sweet fluting of her voice. I wanted to say that if she were with me then somehow nothing could ever be wrong for me again.
Using words to talk of words is like using a pencil to draw a picture of itself, on itself. Impossible. Confusing. Frustrating ... but there are other ways to understanding.
Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts. There are seven words that will make a person love you. There are ten words that will break a strong man's will. But a word is nothing but a painting of a fire. A name is the fire itself.
How odd to watch a mortal kindle / Then to dwindle day by day / Knowing their bright souls are tinder / And the wind will have its way
All the truth in the world is held in stories.
Writers of feminist dystopian fiction are alert to the realities that grind down women's lives, that make the unthinkable suddenly thinkable.
You could compile the worst book in the world entirely out of selected passages from the best writers in the world.
I remember tearing up the first time I read Nabokov's description, in 'Speak, Memory,' of his father being tossed on a blanket by cheering muzhiks, with its astonishingly subtle foreshadowing of grief and mourning.
I've gained a lot from James Joyce, Tolstoy, Chekhov and R. K. Narayan. While writing, I try to see if the story is going to radiate spokes. Their literature has always done that and gifted me beautiful things.
You don't put your life into your books, you find it there.
An unread author is an author who is a victim of the worst kind of censorship, indifference - a censorship more effective than the Ecclesiastical Index.
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