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That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.
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
Writing
Finally
Ones
Words
Better
Right
More quotes by Raymond Carver
There is no answer. It's okay. But even if it wasn't okay, what am I supposed to do?
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The fiction Im most interested in has lines of reference to the real world.
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What good are insights? They only make things worse.
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You've got to work with your mistakes until they look intended. Understand?
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There is no God, and conversation is a dying art.
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Remember Haydn's 104 symphonies. Not all of them were great. But there were 104 of them.
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She won't give him back his look.
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Fiction shows the external effects of internal conditions. Be aware of the tension between internal and external movement.
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A great danger, or at least a great temptation, for many writers is to become too autobiographical in their approach to their fiction. A little autobiography and a lot of imagination are best.
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I dressed and went for a walk - determined not to return until I took in what Nature had to offer.
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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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My heart is broken,” she goes. “It’s turned to a piece of stone. I’m no good. That’s what’s as bad as anything, that I’m no good anymore.
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Isak Dinesen said that she wrote a little every day, without hope and without despair. I like that.
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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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I am too nervous to eat pie.
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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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My life is going to change. I feel it.
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All of us, all of us, all of us trying to save our immortal souls, some ways seemingly more round about and mysterious than others. We are having a good time here. But hope all will be revealed soon.
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A little autobiography and a lot of imagination are best.
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