The Intimacy of Quoting
On the quiet pleasure of collecting words that feel like home — and how they shape the way we read, write, and live
She is energised by the thought of not knowing what she is even writing, of getting to decide it with every sentence
There’s something intimate and delicate in selecting, saving, and sharing (or not sharing) the quotes that move you. Finding a phrase that captures a feeling, or comments with curious precision on the state of the world, is always a small revelation. It might be a surprise encounter in a book you almost gave up reading, or a passage from a famous classic that suddenly speaks to you in a new way. One thing is clear: you know when you read an outstanding line.
As an experienced reader, I usually end up with a few highlighted phrases in every finished book — lines that either move me deeply or express, beautifully and precisely, what I’d been thinking all along. Some are philosophical, some purely practical, but I save them all — small fragments that preserve the memory of impact. We all have such phrases that stay with us as reminders of what the heroes we love would do in certain moments. Some even take these words further, carrying them on their skin as tattoos — small acts of eternal partnership.
As an aspiring author, I often find myself reflecting on this habit while exploring new ideas in my own writing. I try not to chase memorable lines or write for the sake of being quoted, yet I believe that words can and should connect us — offering guidance, clarity, and comfort when needed most. This is why I often spend twice, sometimes three times, as long editing as I do writing (and still feel it wasn’t enough). A single sentence that astonishes in its simplicity or beauty feels like a rare luxury.
Now that I write consciously and regularly, I notice my reading — and quoting — habits shifting. Books are no longer just entertainment or research or progress toward a Goodreads goal; they’ve become a study in rhythm, structure, and style. If you’re attentive enough, even the most mundane sentence can frame an entire experience. It can set a scene, create a mirror, or quietly misdirect your attention before leaving you breathless with recognition. I suppose this is how I read now — seeking both inspiration and immersion. Some authors go further still, crafting entire languages and worlds of their own — Tolkien being the most dazzling example of this linguistic alchemy.
Quoting, I think, is a form of dialogue — and an intimate one. First comes the inner conversation: rereading a good line, turning it over, finding new layers of meaning. Then comes the impulse to share — to pair the quote with an image, to post it, to make it yours for a moment. Sometimes, the connection between word and image is absurd; sometimes it’s sublime. Others choose a line as a personal motto, a private compass. And then there are those rare sentences that feel like an intrusion — that pierce straight through you, declaring transformation the instant you read them. They’re dangerous, in a way — and yet they’re my favourite kind. I seek them out in both my reading and my writing.
Because in the end, quoting isn’t only about preservation. It’s about recognition — that moment when someone else’s words echo the shape of your own thoughts.
So, what is your favourite quote?


Every time I reread one of my peices do I feel the need to re-edit something.