The soul is a magician. Only living flesh hampers it.
I love writers all across the board, but one who influenced me very directly at the beginning was Mary Renault.
Madness. I did not get myself born to die. I have better things to do.
He sat by her, watching every gesture she made, as if he would paint her portrait afterward.
We all have our dreams. May we find them, and God have mercy on us when we do.
Writing is writing, and stories are stories. Perhaps the only true genres are fiction and nonfiction. And even there, who can be sure?