Let thy words be few. I agree, but only if my ink can relentlessly run.

— Delano Johnson

Love is wind for the soul

— D. Antoinette Foy

Maybe that's what I needed. Another tattoo. Some pain on the outside to ease the pain on the inside.

— N.R. Walker

Melissa popped open the flattery little Roaring tin. Pencils, putty rubber, scalpel. She sharpened a 3B, letting the curly shavings fall into the wicker bin, then paused for a few seconds, finding a little place of stillness before starting to draw the flowers. Art didn't count at school because it didn't get you into law or banking or medicine. It was just a fluffy thing stuck to the side of Design and Technology, a free A level for kids who could do it, like a second language, but she loved charcoal and perfect gouache, she loved rolling sticky black ink on to a lino plate and heaving on the big black arm of the Cope press, the quiet and those big white walls.

— Mark Haddon

Memory is more indelible than ink.

— Anita Loos

My art is that of the 35mm kind; my poetry is of the lead and ink kind; my happiness is of the product of both; and my legacy is of the story of my soul, that my life left behind

— Jeremy Aldana

My heart's scripture tastes foreign in the mouths of cowards and on the tongues of those who have never breathed in the moon and breathed out the world.

— D. Antoinette Foy

My tattoos, like most people's, were reminders, badges of personal experiences. Yes, I might wear them on my skin for the world to see, but their meaning was a little too personal.

— N.R. Walker

Never let me lose you, Ink. Never let me screw this up. And never think for one moment that I don't love you, need you or want you with me.

— Dawn Metcalf

Now relax, think positively and begin --- the smile of success awaits you.

— Claudia Nice