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Where do the ducks go in the winter?

J. D. Salinger

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J. D. Salinger
Age: 91 †
Born: 1919
Born: January 1
Died: 2010
Died: January 27
Author
Novelist
Writer
New York City
New York
Jerome David Salinger
Jerome Salinger
Ducks
Winter

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I’m just sick of ego, ego, ego. My own and everybody else’s. I’m sick of everybody that wants to get somewhere, do something distinguished and all, be somebody interesting. It’s disgusting.
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I'd never yell, Good luck! at anybody. It sounds terrible, when you think about it.
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How long should a man's legs be? Long enough to touch the ground.
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You don't have to think too hard when you talk to teachers.
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I kept picturing all these little kids in this big field of rye... If they're running and they don't look where they're going, I have to come out from somewhere and catch them.
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Girls. You never know what they're going to think.
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Sleep tight, ya morons!
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I feel overwhelmingly grateful to them, but I don't know what to do with their invisible gifts.
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It's so silly. All you do is get the heck out of your body when you die. My gosh, everybody's done it thousands of times. Just because they don't remember, it doesn't mean they haven't done it.
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You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were.
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If I were God, I certainly wouldn't want people to love me sentimentally. It's too unreliable.
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I felt so lonesome, all of a sudden. I almost wished I was dead.
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Listen, he said. If you was a fish, Mother Nature'd take care of you, wouldn't she? Right? You don't think them fish just die when it gets to be winter, do ya? No, but-- You're goddam right they don't
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If you sat around there long enough and heard all the phonies applauding and all, you got to hate everybody in the world, I swear you did.
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Sometimes I see me dead in the rain.
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I never seem to have anything that if I lost it I'd care too much about.
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Who in the Bible besides Jesus knew--knew--that we're carrying the Kingdom of Heaven around with us, inside, where we're all too goddam stupid and sentimental and unimaginative to look?
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An artist's only concern is to shoot for some kind of perfection, and on his own terms, not anyone else's.
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