Publicity is absolutely critical. A good PR story is infinitely more effective than a front page ad.
Every success story is a tale of constant adaption, revision and change.
Not everything in this life has a happy ending, but this life is not the end of the story.
There’s a Grand Designer behind everything. Your life is not a result of random chance, fate, or luck. There is a master plan. History is His story. God is pulling the strings.
My story is definitely going to be a happily ever after, no matter what.
For me, the pleasure of writing comes with inventing stories.
And were an epitaph to be my story I’d have a short one ready for my own. I would have written of me on my stone: I had a lover’s quarrel with the world.
Any work of art must first of all tell a story.
I think it’s great when stories are dark and strange and weirdly personal.
Of the many messages found in the Hanukah story, the one that has always inspired me most is this: with a strong faith in the Almighty, nothing is impossible; and without the help of our Creator, we labor in vain.
In case anybody asks you about my position on capital punishment, you can tell them I favor it; and if they want to know why, you can tell them this story.
When the remedy you have offered only increases the disease, then leave him who will not be cured, and tell your story to someone who seeks the truth.
Everyone sleeps, except lovers, who stay awake, telling stories to God.
Water, stories, the body, all the things we do, are mediums that hid and show what’s hidden.
Body of earth, don’t talk of earth Tell the story of pure mirrors The Creator has given you this splendor – Why talk of anything else?
I don’t know why I told this story. I could just as well have told another. Perhaps some other time I’ll be able to tell another. Living souls, you will see how alike they are.
The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I mean without the courage to end or the strength to go on.
That’s the mistake I made, one of the mistakes, to have wanted a story for myself, whereas life alone is enough.
I wondered which was harder, in the end. The act of telling, or who you told it to. Or maybe if, when you finally got it out, the story was really all that mattered.
Pieces and parts were always easier to process. The full picture, the entire story, was another thing entirely. But you just never knew. Sometimes, people could surprise you.