So often is the virgin sheet of paper more real than what one has to say, and so often one regrets having marred it.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Virginity can be lost by a thought.
Paper acts as an eraser on the mind, as soon as you look at what you've written.
In dread fear of sentimentality, another thing true is not said-that for its staff the paper is a source of pride and, I do believe, an object of affection and-yes, love.
It is one of the superstitions of the human mind to have imagined that virginity could be a virtue.
Paper and ink are all but trash, if I cannot find the thought which the writer did think.
Even after I got my divorce, the ink wasn't even dry on the paper, and I said, 'Ooh, the next time I become a wife, I got this thing down pat!' I always believed that there was someone built for me.
I don't believe that a piece of paper will excuse my actions. In the end, only my actions will.
The text loses its virginity simply by being staged: it's no longer the abstract ideal version; it's an event.
Never regret what you don't write.
Sometimes a manuscript is like bread dough. You have to abuse it.