Brenda Ueland

I learned that you should feel when writing, not like Lord Byron on a mountain top, but like child stringing beads in kindergarten, - happy, absorbed and quietly putting one bead on after another.

Families are great murderers of the creative impulse, particularly husbands.

All children have creative power.

The tragedy of bold, forthright, industrious people is that they act so continuously without much thinking, that it becomes dry and empty.

It is so conceited and timid to be ashamed of one's mistakes. Of course they are mistakes. Go on to the next.

Consistency is the horror of the world.

The spirit I think is a stream a fountain and must be continually poured out for only if it is poured out will more and clearer streams come.

Sometimes I think of life as a process where everybody is discouraging and taking everybody else down a peg or two.

This is what I learned: that everybody is talented, original and has something important to say.

Everybody is talented because everybody who is human has something to express.

Even if I knew for certain that I would never have anything published again, and would never make another cent from it, I would still keep on writing.