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Men may rise on stepping stones of their dead selves to higher things.

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
Higher
Dead
May
Self
Harps
Things
Stepping
Men
Selves
Rise
Stones

More quotes by Zane Grey

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Work is my salvation. It changes my moods.
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I did not have one bad spell during writing - an unprecedented record.
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Love grows more tremendously full, swift, poignant, as the years multiply.
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I will see this game of life out to its bitter end
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Today I began the novel that I determined to be great.
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There are hours when I must force the novel out of my mind and be interested in the children.
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I hope I have found myself, my work, my happiness - under the light of the western skies.
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It was a decent New Year's, but it took a million officers to make it so.
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Never insult seven men when all your packing is a six-shooter.
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If I fished only to capture fish, my fishing trips would have ended long ago.
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The Indian story has never been written. Maybe I am the man to do it.
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Fishermen, no matter what supreme good fortune befalls them, cannot ever be absolutely satisfied. It is a fundamental weakness of intellect.
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Adam Larey gazed with hard and wondering eyes down the silent current of the red river upon which he meant to drift away into the desert
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I arise full of eagerness and energy, knowing well what achievement lies ahead of me.
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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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The difficulty, the ordeal, is to start.
Zane Grey
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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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Every once in a while I feel the tremendous force of the novel. But it does not stay with me.
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What makes life worth living? Better surely, to yield to the stain of suicide blood in me and seek forgetfulness in the embrace of cold dark death.
Zane Grey
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I love my work but do not know how I write it.
Zane Grey