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Don’t complain, don’t explain.

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
Complain
Complaining
Explain

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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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I am too nervous to eat pie.
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There is no God, and conversation is a dying art.
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That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.
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What good are insights? They only make things worse.
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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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Every great or even every very good writer makes the world over according to his own specifications.
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Woke up this morning with a terrific urge to lie in bed all day and read. Fought against it for a minute. Then looked out the window at the rain. And gave over. Put myself entirely in the keep of this rainy morning. Would I live my life over again? Make the same unforgivable mistakes? Yes, given half a chance. Yes.
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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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I'm always learning something. Learning never ends.
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You have to have been in love to write poetry.
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I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone's heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.
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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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This is awful. I don't know what's going to happen to me or to anyone else in the world.
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A little autobiography and a lot of imagination are best.
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Honey, no offense, but sometimes I think I could shoot you and watch you kick.
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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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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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