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Isak Dinesen said that she wrote a little every day, without hope and without despair. I like that.
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
Little
Without
Every
Like
Wrote
Despair
Hope
Littles
More quotes by Raymond Carver
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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She won't give him back his look.
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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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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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Remember Haydn's 104 symphonies. Not all of them were great. But there were 104 of them.
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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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The fiction Im most interested in has lines of reference to the real world.
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You're...writing for other writers to an extent-the dead writers whose work you admire, as well as the living writers you like to read.
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That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.
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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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I am too nervous to eat pie.
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There is no answer. It's okay. But even if it wasn't okay, what am I supposed to do?
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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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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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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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You're a beautiful drunk, daughter. But you're a drunk.
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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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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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