Quote

I am a little thing, a tiny little thing on the vast prairies. I know nothing. My mouth is dirty. I cannot tell what I want. My feet are sunk in the black swampy land, but I am a lover. I love life. In the end love shall save me.

Sherwood Anderson

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Sherwood Anderson
Age: 64 †
Born: 1876
Born: September 13
Died: 1941
Died: March 8
Novelist
Writer
Buck Fever
Thing
Land
Dirty
Love
Black
Mouth
Life
Tell
Mouths
Cannot
Tiny
Prairies
Ends
Lovers
Sunk
Littles
Save
Prairie
Little
Feet
Lover
Nothing
Shall
Vast

More quotes by Sherwood Anderson

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Wait and wait. Most people's lives are spent waiting.
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In youth there are always two forces fighting in people. The warm unthinking little animal struggles against the thing that reflects and remembers
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All good New Orleanians go to look at the Mississippi at least once a day. At night it is like creeping into a dark bedroom to look at a sleeping child--something of that sort--gives you the same warm nice feeling, I mean.
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I think the whole glory of writing lies in the fact that it forces us out of ourselves and into the lives of others.
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My father, a ruined dandy from the South, had been reduced to keeping a small harness-repair shop and, when that failed, he became ostensibly a house-and-barn painter. However, he did not call himself a house-painter. The idea was not flashy enough for him. He called himself a sign-writer.
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If you are to become a writer you'll have to stop fooling with words.
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Dare to be strong and courageous. That is the road. Venture anything.
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Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.
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Dare to be strong and courageous. That is the road. Venture anything. Be brave enough to dare to be loved. Be something more than man or woman. Be Tandy.
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Would it not be better to have it understood that realism, in so far as the word means reality to life, is always bad art -- although it may possibly be very good journalism?
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I have seldom written a story, long or short, that I did not have to write and rewrite. There are single stories of mine that have taken me ten or twelve years to get written.
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Father was made for romance. For him there was no such thing as a fact.
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Realism, in so far as the word means reality to life, is always bad art.
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The father spent his time talking and thinking of religion. He proclaimed himself an agnostic and was so absorbed in destroying the ideas of God that had crept into the minds of his neighbors that he never saw God manifesting himself in the little child that, half forgotten, lived here and there on the bounty of her dead mother's relatives.
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The object of art is not to make salable pictures. It is to save yourself.
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I am constantly amazed at how little painters know about painting, writers about writing, merchants about business, manufacturers about manufacturing. Most men just drift.
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Everyone in the world is Christ and they are all crucified.
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The fools who write articles about me think that one morning I suddenly decided to write and began to produce masterpieces. There is no special trick about writing, or painting either. I wrote constantly for 15 years before I produced anything with any solidity to it.
Sherwood Anderson
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The writing of words can lead to all sorts of absurdities.
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There is this thing called life. We live it, not as we intend or wish, but as we are driven on by forces outside and inside ourselves.
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