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I paint very messy. I throw paint around. So when I let myself do the same sort of thing with my writing, and I would just write and write and write and revise, that's when I found my rhythm in writing.

Erin Morgenstern

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Erin Morgenstern
Age: 46
Born: 1978
Born: July 8
Novelist
Writer
Write
Found
Around
Revise
Writing
Messy
Thing
Rhythm
Would
Throw
Paint
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More quotes by Erin Morgenstern

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I am already married, she remarks to the empty air, twisting the ring on her right hand that covers an sold, distinctive scar.
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Chandresh relishes reactions. Genuine reactions, not mere polite applause. He often values the reactions over the show itself. A show without an audience is nothing, after all. In the response of the audience, that is where the power of performance lives.
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He remembers when he was very small his mother once said she wished happiness and adventure for him. If this does not count as adventure, he is not sure what does.
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It's not a real name, she says. Not one that he's carried with him always. It's one he wears like his hat. So he can take it off if he wants.
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It's a wonderful sort of feeling when people want to spend more time in a world you created.
Erin Morgenstern
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I have tried to let you go and I cannot. I cannot stop thinking of you. I cannot stop dreaming about you.
Erin Morgenstern
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Natural talent is a questionable phenomenon. Inclination perhaps, but innate ability is extremely rare.
Erin Morgenstern
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When you meet someone new who instantly gets you, your sense of humor and your attitudes and your worldview, even if theirs are different - and you get them in return. You both talk and talk and agree and laugh and nod and yes, yes, of course you should get another round of drinks.
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We are two different people, Ethan. Just because you could never decide which one of us you were in love with does not make us interchangeable.
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Each of them always gravitating toward the other. Yet still they do not touch.
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I made a wish on this tree years ago, Marco says. What did you wish for? Bailey asks. Marco leans forward and whispers in Bailey's ear. I wished for her.
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You look like a ghost, Bailey says. He can think of no better way to describe it. You appear the same way to me, so which of us is real?
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Marco moves to close the distance between them, kissing away her tears before catching her lip with his own. As he kisses her, the bonfire glows brighter. The acrobats catch the light perfectly as they spin. The entire circus sparkles, dazzling every patron.
Erin Morgenstern
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I think I get some of my love of adult books that can be fun from Douglas Adams.
Erin Morgenstern
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It is destroying me that I cannot ask you to dance.
Erin Morgenstern
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I have been surrounded by love letters you two have built each other for years, encased in tents.
Erin Morgenstern
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But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares.
Erin Morgenstern
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But you built me dreams instead.
Erin Morgenstern
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And then he tells her stories. Myths he learned from his instructor. Fantasies he created himself, inspired by bits and pieces of others read in archaic books with crackling spines.
Erin Morgenstern
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Her father picks different names for her as they change locales, but he uses Miranda often, presumably because he knows how much it annoys her.
Erin Morgenstern