The intellect is of no use unless it’s disciplined by the mortification of the flesh, so that it may serve the soul. That’s all. The intellect thinks. The body dances. And the spirit sings. A song, a simple song. When love and memory are overwhelming, and the soul, though crushed, takes flight, it does so in a simple song.
Mark HelprinAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist
- Nationality: american
- Born: June 28, 1947
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And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I've felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, just to get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.
Charlie Kaufman
When you've got a thing to say, Say it! Don't take half a day. When your tale's got little in it. Crowd the whole thing in a minute! Life is short--a fleeting vapor--Don't you fill the whole blamed paper. With a tale which, at a pinch, Could be cornered in an inch! Boil her down until she simmers, Polish her until she glimmers.
Joel Chandler Harris