Try any goddam thing you like, no matter how boringly normal or outrageous. If it works, fine. If it doesn't, toss it. Toss it even if you love it.
Stephen KingRead
The sun was a molten coin burning a circle in the low-hanging overcast, surrounded by a fairy-ring of moisture.
Interpretation
The sun creates a vivid and enchanting image of warmth and light despite a cloudy backdrop.
In this quote, Stephen King uses a powerful metaphor to describe the sun as a molten coin, emphasizing its brightness and beauty contrasting against the dreary overcast sky. The imagery of a 'fairy-ring of moisture' further enhances the magical quality of the scene, inviting readers to appreciate the interplay of light and nature even in less-than-perfect weather.
In practice
This quote could be used in a nature writing workshop to inspire participants to appreciate the beauty in everyday scenes.
Try any goddam thing you like, no matter how boringly normal or outrageous. If it works, fine. If it doesn't, toss it. Toss it even if you love it.
Eddie discovered one of his childhood's great truths. Grownups are the real monsters, he thought.
Hairstyles change, and skirt lengths, and slang, but high school administrations? Never.
Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.
That's the day's business. Thinking. Thinking and isolation, because it doesn't matter if you pass the time of day with someone or not; in the end, you're alone. He seemed to have put in as many miles in his brain as he had with his feet. The thoughts kept coming and there was no way to deny them.
Late last night and the night before, tommyknockers, tommyknockers knocking on my door. I wanna go out, don't know if I can 'cuz I'm so afraid of the tommyknocker man.
Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea Past the houses, past the headlands Into deep eternity! Bred as we, among the mountains Can the sailor understand The divine intoxication Of the first league out from land?
Yes, I am well aware that nature - or what we call nature: that totality of objects and processes that surrounds us and that alternately creates us and devours us - is neither our accomplice nor our confidant.
It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it.
People in cities may forget the soil for as long as a hundred years, but Mother Nature's memory is long and she will not let them forget indefinitely.
What other species now require of us is our attention. Otherwise, we are entering a narrative of disappearing intelligences.
There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of Nature and has his senses still.
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