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A dead afternoon in a dark bar was not the worst of fates.

Don DeLillo

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Don DeLillo
Age: 87
Born: 1936
Born: November 20
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Playwright
Screenwriter
Writer
New York City
New York
Don Delillo
Donald Richard DeLillo
Afternoon
Bars
Fate
Dead
Worst
Dark
Fates

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I am ashamed every day, and more ashamed the next.
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The greater the scientific advance, the more primitive the fear.
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Fame and secrecy are the high and low ends of the same fascination.
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I see contemporary violence as a kind of sardonic response to the promise of consumer fulfilment in America.
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A Catholic is raised with the idea that he will die any minute now and if he doesn't live his life in a certain way, this death is an introduction to an eternity of pain.
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All plots tend to move deathward. This is the nature of plots.
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American writers ought to stand and live in the margins, and be more dangerous.
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Isn't death the boundary we need?
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The smoke alarm went off in the hallway upstairs, either to let us know the battery had just died or because the house was on fire.
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To be a tourist is to escape accountability.
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If an idea seems to find its way towards a stage setting, that's the direction I take. I don't know if I'm trying to achieve anything other than to follow an idea on to the page.
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A mystery novel localizes the awesome force of the real death outside the book, winds it tightly in a plot.
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Facts are lonely things.
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I've come to think of Europe as a hardcover book, America as the paperback version.
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I slept for four years. I didn't study much of anything. I majored in something called communication arts.
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There is a world inside the world.
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People hurried past, the others of the street, endless anonymous, twenty-one lives per second, race-walking in their faces and pigments, sprays of fleetest being.
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Everything's a scandal. Dying's a scandal. But we all do it.
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How many beginnings before you see the lies in your excitement?
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A writer takes earnest measures to secure his solitude and then finds endless ways to squander it.
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