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Love grows more tremendously full, swift, poignant, as the years multiply.

Zane Grey

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Zane Grey
Age: 67 †
Born: 1872
Born: January 31
Died: 1939
Died: October 23
Author
Baseball Player
Dentist
Film Producer
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Writer
Zanesville
Ohio
Swift
Full
Grows
Years
Love
Poignant
Tremendously
Multiply
Anniversary

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I must go deeper and even stronger into my treasure mine and stint nothing of time, toil, or torture.
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Work is my salvation. It changes my moods.
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Far away Tongariro! Green - white thundering Athabasca river of New Zealand! I vowed I would come again down across the Pacific to fish in the swift cold waters of this most beautiful and famous of trout streams. It is something to have striven. It is much to have kept your word.
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What is writing but an expression of my own life?
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Men may rise on stepping stones of their dead selves to higher things.
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This motion-picture muddle had distracted me from my writing.
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The difficulty, the ordeal, is to start.
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If I fished only to capture fish, my fishing trips would have ended long ago.
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I arise full of eagerness and energy, knowing well what achievement lies ahead of me.
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I can write best in the silence and solitude of the night, when everyone has retired.
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Never insult seven men when all your packing is a six-shooter.
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A good rule of angling philosophy is not to interfere with any fishermans ways of being happy, unless you want to be hated.
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I love my work but do not know how I write it.
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No one connected intimately with a writer has any appreciation of his temperament, except to think him overdoing everything.
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Every once in a while I feel the tremendous force of the novel. But it does not stay with me.
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Writing was like digging coal. I sweat blood. The spell is on me.
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I am full of fire and passion. I am not ready yet for great concentration and passion.
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I am tired. My arm aches. My head boils. My feet are cold. But I am not aware of any weakness.
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The Indian story has never been written. Maybe I am the man to do it.
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These critics who crucify me do not guess the littlest part of my sincerity. They must be burned in a blaze. I cannot learn from them.
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