vitrius’s most recent Quotables

They photographed Shirley Temple through gauze. They ought to photograph me through linoleum.

The author is changing. The author is expected now to be engaged with social media, to find their audience online right away. But there are lots of fantastic writers who don't want to play the social media game, and I think that publishers need to be there to help them.

I knew that things were rumbling in publishing, I felt like I was falling a bit behind. So I tried to find out what was going on at the time. [...] I thought, I want to find out about these things, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. So I wanted to create a platform where people could find these things out.

The future is already here - it's just not evenly distributed.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

Nor did I wonder at the lily's white
Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose
They were but sweet, but figures of delight
Drawn after you, you pattern of all those

But is it true love, in the rectum? That’s what bothers me sometimes.

Players lose you games, not tactics. There's so much crap talked about tactics by people who barely know how to win at dominoes.

I wouldn't say I was the best manager in the business. But I was in the top one.

All writing is a sin against speechlessness, trying to find a form for that silence.

Doubt that the stars are fire.
Doubt that the sun doth move.
Doubt truth to be a liar.
But doubt not that I love.

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.

Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.

Heard a chap on the radio this morning talking with a Cockney accent. They tell me he is one of Her Majesty's ministers.

The trouble with Michael is that he had to buy his own furniture.

When he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he shall make the face of Heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night and pay no worship to the garish sun.

I'm as pure as the driven slush.

He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep the pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God

I've never really liked knees.