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Books don't offer real escape, but they can stop a mind scratching itself raw.
David Mitchell
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David Mitchell
Age: 55
Born: 1969
Born: January 12
Actor
Composer
Linguist
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Text Writer
Translator
Writer
Clarkfield
Minnesota
David Stephen Mitchell
David Henry Mitchell
Reading
Inspirational
Book
Scratching
Real
Escape
Writing
Offer
Mind
Offers
Stop
Books
More quotes by David Mitchell
Don't bemoan your misspent life quite yet. Forgive me for flaunting my experience, but you have no conception of what a misspent life constitutes.
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Your turn has come to sift through the dreck of humanity for rare specks of originality
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Words are very powerful and can lead anyone reading them or hearing them, into contemplation and insight. How the mind follows suit is rarely palpable or expected. This impact is not a matter of metaphysical effects nor of an unexplainable phenomenon. It’s simply part of being human.
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Do, said Louisa finally, whatever you can't not do.
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Dead things show you what you’ll be too one day.
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If war's first victim is truth, its second is clerical efficiency.
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I am going to tell you a secret. Everything is about wanting. Everything. Things happen because of people wanting. Watch closely, and you’ll see what I mean.
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Writing is probably one-fifth coming up with the stuff, and four-fifths self-editing again and again and again.
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A weapon men use against women is the refusal to take them seriously.
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If swans weren't real myths'd make up.
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We are both busy people, so let's cut the small talk.
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I've become a less brave traveller since I became a dad, but in the past I was more foolhardy than brave.
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I added 'writers' to my list of people not to trust. They make everything up.
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We are only what we know, and I wished to be so much more than I was, sorely.
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What wouldn't I give now for a never-changing map of the ever-constant ineffable? To possess, as it were, an atlas of clouds.
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Go to hell, Willy, our souls eat poetry, but one has seven deadly sins to feed!
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Music’s a wood you walk through.
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I feel like something important has happened to me. Is this possible?
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I can't bear living in this huge beautiful world and not try to imitate it as best I can.
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Leaves turned to soil beneath my feet. Thus it is, trees eat themselves.
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