If you want to act, you have to devote yourself to it. Send out letters and photos every day, work all the hours under the sun, whatever it takes. If you’re not determined, you won’t get anywhere.
A typical agent in New York gets 400 query letters a month. Of those, they might ask to read 3-4 manuscripts, and of those, they might ask to represent 1.
In politics women type the letters, lick the stamps, distribute the pamphlets and get out the vote. Men get elected.
We already know that anonymous letters are despicable. In etiquette, as well as in law, hiring a hit man to do the job does not relieve you of responsibility.
I wrote that letter, and the one to Nixon. And I wrote more letters, and I thought it might be a magazine article. At that time I sent it to Esquire and Playboy, but anyway, I kept writing, and all of sudden I had enough and thought, well maybe it is a book.
He who receives a great many letters demanding answer, sees himself as if engaged in a hopeless struggle of one man against the rest of the world.
Politeness is as much concerned in answering letters within a reasonable time, as it is in returning a bow, immediately.
Writings scatter to the winds blank checks in an insane charge. And were they not such flying leaves, there would be no purloined letters.
After reviewing the polygraph charts in private, the polygraph examiner told me that I had passed and that he believed I had nothing to do with the anthrax letters.
If I’m just at the White House, I have meetings in my office, I sign letters, I plan different things. Late in the afternoon, I’ll quit working and wait for my husband to get home.
If I loved all the world as I do you, I shouldn’t write books to it: I should only write letters to it, and that would be only a clumsy stage on the way to entire telepathy.
Mum used to hide love letters from my boyfriends and put me down. Now I understand that she was a Polish immigrant forced to settle in Chicago. She was jealous of the freedom life gave me.
I even got letters form kids in hospitals saying the music is what keeps them going, and that really touched my heart.
Letters are like wine; if they are sound they ripen with keeping. A man should lay down letters as he does a cellar of wine.
I get letters from women, and they say, ‘I love your Roman nose.’ If I weren’t on TV and I walked past that same woman, she’d go, ‘Did you see the beak on that guy?
I had never thought of myself as a dramatist, and, for really good technical results, the thought came too late: a man of letters has become too wordy to write economically for the stage.
The man of science, like the man of letters, is too apt to view mankind only in the abstract, selecting in his consideration only a single side of our complex and many-sided being.
Out all of these zillions of letters, one of the first ones that came was, as it turned out from Johnny Carson within the last five or six weeks of his life. I had worked with him. He lost a son who had worked for me.
Judging from the letters I’ve received from obviously feeble-minded persons who wish I would write another These Old Shades, it ought to sell like hot cakes.
Letters have to pass two tests before they can be classed as good: they must express the personality both of the writer and of the recipient.
Books and opinions, no matter from whom they came, if they are in opposition to human rights, are nothing but dead letters.
Every author really wants to have letters printed in the papers. Unable to make the grade, he drops down a rung of the ladder and writes novels.
I get letters from readers who say that they have always hated reading, but somebody suggested one of my books, they actually finished the book and enjoyed it, and they’re going on to read another book. I’m thrilled that they have figured out that reading is fun.
Not only did I avoid speaking of Salinger; I resisted thinking about him. I did not reread his letters to me. The experience had been too painful.
Telling your story out loud is the way human beings communicate. We don’t normally think up words, translate how to spell them and then move our fingers up and down over this randomly arranged set of keys to make the same letters appear on a screen.
My readers at that time were still men of letters; but there had to be other people waiting to read my poems.
I used to get letters from girl reporters saying that their lives were nowhere near as exciting as Brenda’s. I told them that if I made Brenda’s life like theirs, nobody would read it.
Although a madman, Norton wrote letters to Abraham Lincoln and Queen Victoria which they took seriously.
Average Americans are going to win this, not me. And not just your organization, not just the providers of health care, but the American people are going to cause this to happen. But they have to keep sending those cards and letters.
There are all kinds of letters and protests that come from, not surprisingly, Japanese fishermen, the fishermen’s wives; there are student groups, all different types of people; the protest against the Americans’ use of the Pacific for nuclear testing.
More negatives write than call. It’s a cheap shot for me to go on the air with the critical letters or E-mail I get because the reaction of the listeners is always an instantaneous expression of sympathy for me and contempt for the poor critic.
Every man should follow the bent of his nature in art and letters, always provided that he does not offend against the rules of morality and good taste.
The position of modern science, as far as an ignorant man of letters can understand it, seems not a step in advance of that held by Huxley and Romanes in the last century.
When I think of the library of Alexandria and of the fact that, although it burnt down, people continue to sort the letters of the alphabet according to that tradition, then that makes certain expressions of modernity, even of interventions on the textual level, possible.
I’m an advocate of the great Dr. Johnson, the English man of letters who said that patriotism was the last refuge of the scoundrel.
Thus, the poet’s word is beginning to strike forcefully upon the hearts of all men, while absolute men of letters think that they alone live in the real world.
I don’t know why Sinclair Lewis fell in love with me. He didn’t get even the slightest response from me. But his letters were lovely. And the poems he wrote me were lovely. I used some of them in my book.