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Dreams, you know, are what you wake up from.

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
Wake
Dreams
Dream

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There's literary creation and literary business. When I first got something accepted, it gave my life a validation it didn't otherwise have.
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Happiness. It comes on unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really, any early morning talk about it.
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My life is going to change. I feel it.
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I'm always learning something. Learning never ends.
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I guess my writing has changed as my life has.
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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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We knew our days were numbered. We had fouled up our lives and we were getting ready for a shake-up.
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A little autobiography and a lot of imagination are best.
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I think a little menace is fine to have in a story. For one thing, it's good for the circulation.
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Every great or even every very good writer makes the world over according to his own specifications.
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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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That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.
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Ralph also took some classes in philosophy and literature and felt himself on the brink of some kind of huge discovery about himself. But it never came.
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There was this funny thing of anything could happen now that we realized everything had.
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You're a beautiful drunk, daughter. But you're a drunk.
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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.
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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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Anyone can express himself or herself, but what writers and poets want to do in their work, more than simply express themselves, is communicate.
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I am too nervous to eat pie.
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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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