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Get in, get out. Don't linger. Go on.

Raymond Carver

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Raymond Carver
Age: 50 †
Born: 1938
Born: May 25
Died: 1988
Died: August 2
Author
Novelist
Poet
Prosaist
Screenwriter
Writer
Clatskanie
Oregon
Linger

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There was this funny thing of anything could happen now that we realized everything had.
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I am too nervous to eat pie.
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A little autobiography and a lot of imagination are best.
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Then I said something. I said, Suppose, just suppose, nothing had ever happened. Suppose this was for the first time. Just suppose. It doesn't hurt to suppose. Say none of the other had ever happened. You know what I mean? Then what? I said.
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It's strange. You never start out life with the intention of becoming a bankrupt or an alcoholic or a cheat and a thief. Or a liar.
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You've got to work with your mistakes until they look intended. Understand?
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Life and death matters, yes. And the question of how to behave in this world, how to go in the face of everything. Time is short and the water is rising.
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there isn't enough of anything as long as we live. But at intervals a sweetness appears and, given a chance prevails.
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In the beginning, when I was trying to write, I couldnt turn off the outside world to the extent that I can now.
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What good are insights? They only make things worse.
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But he stays by the window, remembering that life. They had laughed. They had leaned on each other and laughed until the tears had come, while everything else—the cold and where he'd go in it—was outside, for a while anyway.
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There is no God, and conversation is a dying art.
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I am a cigarette with a body attached to it
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There was a time when I thought I loved my first wife more than life itself. But now I hate her guts. I do. How do you explain that? What happened to that love? What happened to it, is what I'd like to know. I wish someone could tell me.
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Dreams, you know, are what you wake up from.
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You have to have been in love to write poetry.
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Honey, no offense, but sometimes I think I could shoot you and watch you kick.
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A man without hands came to the door to sell me a photograph of my house. Except for the chrome hooks, he was an ordinary-looking man of fifty or so.
Raymond Carver
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The smooth stones you pick up and examine under the moon's light have been made blue from the sea. Next morning when you pull them from your trouser pocket, they are still blue.
Raymond Carver
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I dressed and went for a walk - determined not to return until I took in what Nature had to offer.
Raymond Carver