Flair Pens Quotes

When the design was finally locked in, Jobs called the Macintosh team together for a ceremony. “Real artists sign their work,” he said. So he got out a sheet of drafting paper and a Sharpie pen and had all of them sign their names. The signatures were engraved inside each Macintosh. No one would ever see them, but the members of the team knew that their signatures were inside, just as they knew that the circuit board was laid out as elegantly as possible. Jobs called them each up by name, one at a time. Burrell Smith went first. Jobs waited until last, after all forty-five of the others. He found a place right in the center of the sheet and signed his name in lowercase letters with a grand flair. Then he toasted them with champagne. “With moments like this, he got us seeing our work as art,” said Atkinson.

Sylvia would have taken it seriously- so strong was her devotion to the innate intelligence of form. Those pretty tools like glue and pens, pasting together look-books – for Sylvia it would have been like toy making or arranging jewels. Unfortunately, Sylvia’s flair for design and graphics went unnoticed by the Mademoiselle staff, who had already pigeonholed her as a “writer”.

Around 1980, I’d been writing short stories, all to no success; so I wrote a fan letter to Stephen King and asked “How long should it take an aspiring writer to either get published or know when to give up?” Lo and behold, King wrote back to me in long hand with blue flair pen on 14-inch paper, purveying a very nice, helpful note; in it he said my letter proved a “command of the language,” that I should never give up, and that it would take years to succeed, not months. “That’s cold comfort but it’s the truth.” This was the ultimate encouragement for a young writer to be who didn’t know shit about the market. I took Mr. King’s advice and actually sold my first novel little more than a year later. I’ll always be copiously grateful for this advice, and it’s the same advice I give aspiring writers now (along with the story of King’s reply!).

So he got out a sheet of drafting paper and a Sharpie pen and had all of them sign their names. The signatures were engraved inside each Macintosh. No one would ever see them, but the members of the team knew that their signatures were inside, just as they knew that the circuit board was laid out as elegantly as possible. Jobs called them each up by name, one at a time. Burrell Smith went first. Jobs waited until last, after all forty-five of the others. He found a place right in the center of the sheet and signed his name in lowercase letters with a grand flair. Then he toasted them with champagne. “With moments like this, he got us seeing our work as art,” said Atkinson.

But meetings of the House of Representatives, he said, were “the meanest perversion of virtuous Political Machinery that the worst tools ever wrought.” Its members were cowardly, petty, cussed, and degraded. Dickens, for all the flair of his pen, had by no means exaggerated. Although hardly ever reported in the press, the years between 1830 and 1860 saw more than one hundred incidents of violence between congressmen, from melees in the aisles to mass brawls on the floor, from fistfights and duels to street fights. “It is the game of these men, and of their profligate organs,” Dickens wrote, “to make the strife of politics so fierce and brutal, and so destructive of all self-respect in worthy men, that sensitive and delicate-minded persons shall be kept aloof, and they, and such as they, be left to battle out their selfish views unchecked.

Fountain pens let you write with flair.

A novice writer such as me tenuous, initiatory pen strokes usually are either dismal attempts to emulate through stylistic imitation authors of influence, or they are too preoccupied upon developing their own writing flair to actually communicate a thought. The emphasis upon writing with a definitive style naturally gets in the way of producing any work of substance. Preening amateur writers typically drown in the florescence of their own purple twaddle. Nevertheless, the only way to discover a mature inner voice that can speak to me and for me is to write with a ferocious stubbornness, gamely writing sentence after sentence until I can sieve valuable nuggets from a swamp of mental mire.