The easiest thing to do on earth is not write.
William GoldmanRead
People don't remember me. Really. It's not a paranoid thing; I just have this habit of slipping through memories. It doesn't bother me all that much, except I guess that's a lie; it does. For some reason, I test very high on forgettability.
Interpretation
The author reflects on a sense of forgettability and the fleeting nature of human memory.
In this quote, William Goldman expresses a poignant acknowledgment of his own forgettability, suggesting that despite his presence, people do not retain lasting memories of him. This introspection evokes themes of identity and the transient nature of relationships, inviting readers to consider the deeper implications of how individuals are perceived and remembered in the fabric of social interactions.
In practice
A speaker discussing the importance of making lasting impressions during a networking event.
The easiest thing to do on earth is not write.
Writing is finally about one thing: going into a room alone and doing it, putting words on paper that have never been there in quite that way before.
Chapter One. The Bride." He held up the book then. "I'm reading it to you for relax." He practically shoved the book in my face. "By S. Morgenstern. Great Florinese writer. The Princess Bride. He too came to America. S. Morgenstern. Dead now in New York. The English is his own. He spoke eight tongues." Here my father put down the book and held up all his fingers. "Eight. Once in Florin City...
Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high.
Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.
Everyone had told her, since she became a princess-in-training, that she was very likely the most beautiful woman in the world. Now she was going to be the richest and the most powerful as well. Don't expect too much from life, Buttercup told herself as she rode along. Learn to be satisfied with what you have.
[Humans'] capacity to intervene, to compare, to judge, to decide, to choose, to desist makes them capable of acts of greatness, of dignity, and, at the same time, of the unthinkable in terms of indignity.
Nothing happens. Nobody comes, nobody goes. It's awful.
I am an invisible man. I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids - and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.
the neighborhood is nothing but a protective zone- remodeling, disinfection, a snobbish and hygenic design- but above all in a figurative sense: it is a machine for making emptiness.
It is a very inconvenient habit of kittens (Alice had once made the remark) that, whatever you say to them, they always purr: "If they would only purr for 'yes,' and mew for 'no,; or any rule of that sort," she had said, "so that one could keep up a conversation! But how can you talk with a person if they always say the same thing?
I don't know Bengali perfectly. I don't know how to write it or even read it. I have an accent, I speak without authority, and so I've always perceived a disjunction between it and me. As a result, I consider my mother tongue, paradoxically, a foreign language.
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