If a lunatic scribbles
If a lunatic scribbles a jumble of mathematical symbols it does not follow that the writing means anything merely because to the inexpert eye it is indistinguishable from higher mathematics. Eric Temple Bell
Scribbles
I cannot conceive how
I cannot conceive how any man can have brought himself to that pitch of presumption, to consider his country as nothing but carte blanche, upon which he may scribble whatever he pleases. Edmund Burke
I am excessively slothful,
I am excessively slothful, and wonderfully industrious-by fits. There are epochs when any kind of mental exercise is torture, and when nothing yields me pleasure but the solitary communion with the ‘mountains & the woods’-the ‘altars’ of Byron. I have thus rambled and dreamed away whole months, and awake, at last, to a sort of … Read more
When we were small,
When we were small, Rose and I used to play a game called connect the dots. I loved it. I loved drawing a line from dot number 1 to dot number 2 and so on. Most of all, I loved the moment when the chaotic sprinkle of dots resolved itself into a picture. That’s what … Read more
I know I draw
I know I draw without taking my pen off the page. I just keep going, and that my drawings I think of them as scribbles. I don’t think they mean anything to anybody except to me, and then at the end of the day, the end of the project, they wheel out these little drawings … Read more
The true writer, the
The true writer, the born writer, will scribble words on scraps of litter, the back of a bus tickets, on the wall of a cell. David Nicholls
It’s no mystery why
It’s no mystery why many of us in the media can’t get enough of the fabricators Jayson Blair and Stephen Glass, the latter of whom concocted more than a score of bogus feature stories for the New Republic (and who wrote for other magazines, including this one, once) in the mid-1990s. Anyone–journalist, student, academic–who has … Read more
Well I don’t write,
Well I don’t write, I attempt to scribble here and there. And no, nothing ever so grand as being published. Charles Keating, Jr.
The stage I chose–a
The stage I chose–a subject fair and free– ‘Tis yours–’tis mine–’tis public property. All common exhibitions open lie, For praise or censure, to the common eye. Hence are a thousand hackney writers fed; Hence monthly critics earn their daily bread. This is a general tax which all must pay, From those who scribble, down to … Read more
I love book signings:
I love book signings: kids waiting in line for you to scribble on their new books, haha! Brian Jacques