A page from Leonardo’s notebooks. Forster Codex -Volume 12, 91 (Verso)
When I am working on a book or a story I write every morning as soon after first light as possible. There is no one to disturb you and it is cool or cold and you come to your work and warm as you write. You read what you have written and, as you always stop when you know what is going to happen next, you go on from there. You write until you come to a place where you still have your juice and know what will happen next and you stop and try to live through until the next day when you hit it again. You have started at six in the morning, say, and may go on until noon or be through before that. When you stop you are as empty, and at the same time never empty but filling, as when you have made love to someone you love. Nothing can hurt you, nothing can happen, nothing means anything until the next day when you do it again. It is the wait until the next day that is hard to get through.
written by Ernest Hemingway, on his daily writing routine

(Source: violentwavesofemotion)

There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner. Wind themselves around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic.
written by Diane Setterfield, The Thirteenth Tale
She stood there: she listened. She heard the names of the stars.-Virginia Woolf
A good library will never be too neat, or too dusty, because somebody will always be in it, taking books off the shelves and staying up late reading them.
written by Lemony Snicket, Horseradish: Bitter Truths You Can’t Avoid

(Source: observando)

Is sorrow not, one asks, the only thing in the world people really possess?
written by Vladimir Nabokov, Pnin (via larmoyante)

(via dolorimeter)

The sun is a thief: she lures the sea
and robs it. The moon is a thief:
he steals his silvery light from the sun.
The sea is a thief: it dissolves the moon.
written by Vladimir Nabokov, Pale Fire 

(Source: dolorimeter)

Mary Willingham tried to help struggling student-athletes at the University of North Carolina learn to read. First it was just one case, then another and another.

Seeing a bigger problem, Willingham researched the reading abilities of football and basketball players at the Chapel Hill campus, and then raised the alarm when she found many with only elementary school literacy, so low they were unable to follow college courses.

Read More and also check out CNN’s analysis results from other Universities here.

24 hours left to submit your work to be considered for the Fall 2013 issue of Lux Literary Magazine!
Fame, glory, and untold wealth await.
Plus, don’t you want to be featured in the publication that totally definitely beat the Free Press at Capture-the-Flag?
The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir

William Faulkner’s “Splendid Failure”
On this day in 1929, William Faulkner’s The Sound and the Fury was published. It was his fourth novel, the second and most famous in his series of fifteen “Yoknapatawpha County” books. Early reviewers compared it to Dostoevsky and Euripides, but a first printing of 1,789 copies lasted for a year and a half. Even this was more than Faulkner expected: having had so little interest from publishers in his previous books, Faulkner forgot all about them when he began The Sound and the Fury:
One day I seemed to shut the door between me and all publishers’ addresses and book lists. I said to myself, Now I can write. Now I can make myself a vase like that which the old Roman kept at his bedside and wore the rim slowly away with kissing it. So I, who never had a sister and was fated to lose my daughter in infancy, set out to make myself a beautiful and tragic little girl.