I want to still be me when I wake up one fine morning and have breakfast at Tiffany´s.
Truman CapoteRead
To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the inner music that words make.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The joy of writing lies in the beauty and rhythm of words rather than their subject matter.
Truman Capote emphasizes that the essence of writing transcends the topics being written about. Instead, it is the inherent beauty and musicality of the words themselves that provides the greatest satisfaction to the writer. This perspective values the artistry of language and the emotional resonance it can create, suggesting that the act of crafting words can evoke a unique pleasure akin to listening to music.
Themes
WritingMusicWordsPleasureArtistry
In practice
Example use cases
In a workshop on creative writing, this quote can inspire participants to focus on the beauty of their language.
More from Truman Capote
All quotes →All writing, all art, is an act of faith. If one tries to contribute to human understanding, how can that be called decadent? It's like saying a declaration of love is an act of decadence. Any work of art, provide it springs from a sincere motivation to further understanding between people, is an act of faith and therefore is an act of love.
Truman CapoteRead
No one will ever know what 'In Cold Blood' took out of me. It scraped me right down to the marrow of my bones. It nearly killed me. I think, in a way, it did kill me.
Truman CapoteRead
Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing.
Truman CapoteRead
I don't want to own anything until I find a place where me and things go together.
Truman CapoteRead
The quietness of his tone italicized the malice of his reply.
Truman CapoteRead
Similar quotes
This is the beauty of fiction. We may not like these characters, but we inhabit them.
T. C. BoyleRead
I don't know any writer for whom it comes easily. Maybe John Updike - a story would just seem to come to him whole, you know, out of a personal experience. But the rest of us, I think, are not so lucky, and I had to work hard, yeah.
Philip RothRead
Of course I know that the twins are only words on a page, and I'm certainly not the sort of writer who talks to his characters or harbours any illusions about the creative process. But at the same time, I think it's juvenile and arrogant when literary writers compulsively remind their readers that the characters aren't real. People know that already. The challenge is to make an intelligent reader suspend disbelief, to seduce them into the reality of a narrative.
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My art, what do you want to say about it? Do you think you can explain the merits of a picture to those who do not see them? . . . I can find the best and clearest words to explain my meaning, and I have spoken to the most intelligent people about art, and they have not understood; but among people who understand, words are not necessary, you say humph, he, ha and everything has been said.
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I’ve learnt from experience that a painting isn’t finished when you put down your brush – that’s when it starts. The public reaction is what supplies meaning and value. Art comes alive in the arguments you have about it.
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It was pitch dark. I could hear only the violin, and it was as though Juliek's soul were the bow. He was playing his life. The whole of his life was gliding on the strings--his last hopes, his charred past, his extinguished future. He played as he would never play again...When I awoke, in the daylight, I could see Juliek, opposite me, slumped over, dead. Near him lay his violin, smashed, trampled, a strange overwhelming little corpse.
Elie WieselRead