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He Stroked Quotes by Karl Ove Knausgard
1 He Stroked quote by Karl Ove Knausgard
More Quotes by Karl Ove Knausgard
Karl Ove Knausgard has 13 quotes on this site. A few more worth reading:
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As a person, I'm polite - I want to please.
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I have a longing for fiction - to try to believe in it and to disappear into it.
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Saying what you believe others want to hear is, of course, a form of lying.
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I try to write about small insignificant things. I try to find out if it's possible to say anything about them. And…
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I think there are a lot of similarities between writing and music. Music is much more direct and much more emotional and…
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I'm not interested in the words or the meaning of the words. I'm interested in disappearing in it completely, to not be…
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If you are disappearing from yourself, but you're still writing, then there is a kind of activity of thinking going on, which…
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You don't think when you play music, you just try to play and be in it. It is the same for me…
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The strange thing about writing is that it's so easy to write a novel. It is really easy. But it's getting there…
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For me, personally, it is very important that the days are exactly the same, so I have routines. I do the same…
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I never read the translation before publication. The most important things for me is that the emotion is captured in such a…
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The tree was so old, and stood there so alone, that his childish heart had been filled with compassion; if no one…
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For a while he'd tried molding himself into the tragic Romantic hero, brooding and staring clench-jawed off into space as he composed…
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She watched as he settled down on the bed with Naya skin to skin on his chest. His hand all but covered…
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She lowered her head until it was at his level. He stroked the line of her jaw, and then pressed his forehead…
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The tree was so old, and stood there so alone, that his childish heart had been filled with compassion; if no one…
— Karl Ove Knausgard
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I love you,” she whispered. He stroked his hand down her back. “Yep, you do.” “You’re supposed to say it back,” she…
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Mallory dropped her head to the steering wheel. "Look, I'm mad at you, okay? This isn't about me. I know my painful…
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I miss you.…” He stroked the indentation of the gown where her waist would have been—should have been. “I miss you so…
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I'll never look at you in any way but complete admiration.” He stroked her hair soothingly. “You will never be a millstone…
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You forgot to cough!” he said. “Sorry.” She coughed. “Your sneakiness is dangerous. Next time that chisel will lodge itself in my…
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I’m not going anywhere.” Gently, he stroked her back, cradled her head. Was there anything more astounding or more frightening to a…
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