A Quote by Patricia A. McKillip

Content, it dreams awake, and spins the fabric of tales. There is really nothing to be done with such imagery except to use it: in writing, in art. — © Patricia A. McKillip
Content, it dreams awake, and spins the fabric of tales. There is really nothing to be done with such imagery except to use it: in writing, in art.
A small artist is content with art; a great artist is content with nothing except everything.
Having, and seeing, your dreams is very important, and so is chasing those dreams. You see dreams when you sleep, and as you chase your dreams, it keeps you awake. So it's important to stay awake.
Art is revelation instead of information, expression instead of description, creation instead of imitation or repetition. Art is concerned with the HOW, not the WHAT; not with literal content, but with the performance of the factual content. The performance - how it is done - that is the content of art.
Nothing can be as astounding as life. Except for writing. Yes, of course, except for writing, the sole consolation.
Writing requires the concentration of the writer, demands that nothing else be done except that.
Love is anticipation and memory, uncertainty and longing. It’s unreasonable, of course. Nothing begins with so much excitement and hope and pleasure as love, except maybe writing a story. And nothing fails as often, except writing stories. And like a story, love must be troubled to be interesting.
As primitive as digital can be, there is nothing automatic in the methods I use, it's all basically done by hand. I know nothing about computers. I don't like computers. I use them for writing because I have to. I have never had a conversation about computers in my life.
Writing I think, out of what all of us do, writing is the hardest. You're the only who start with nothing except what's up here. You do that. It's really hard I think, acting is not.
Interpretation, based on the highly dubious theory that a work of art is composed of items of content, violates art. It makes art into an article for use, for arrangement into a mental scheme of categories.
[N]othing is as surprising as life. Except for writing. Except for writing. Yes, of course, except for writing, the only consolation.
The really great thing about my shop is that there's not one dead animal in it. ... Manolo's got a load of fabric shoes as well! We use plastic, fabric, rubber- anything but leather. I almost feel like I've been put here to show everyone that it's unnecessary.
That faeries have forgotten the Tapestry; that is the greatest tragedy of all. It's the fabric of all creation and it's woven of dreams, the dreams of the Djinn. Dreams are real, Magpie. They're seed and water and sun. They're everything.
How can I give you nothing? Do you seriously expect me to buy nothing, wrap up nothing, stick a gift tag on nothing, send a card saying I really hope you like your nothing and lie awake worrying that the nothing I got you was the right color nothing you always anted? Have a heart!
What we do in dreams we also do when we are awake: we invent and fabricate the person with whom we associate - and immediately forget we have done so.
When you're writing something new, writing something that's your own, basically you have nothing else to do except either invent a trick, use someone else's trick, or have no trick and get a bad performance.
Writing is writing to me. I'm incapable of saying no to any writing job, so I've done everything - historical fiction, myths, fairy tales, anything that anybody expresses any interest in me writing, I'll write. It's the same reason I used to read as a child: I like going somewhere else and being someone else.
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