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This motion-picture muddle had distracted me from my writing.

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
Motion
Picture
Writing
Muddle
Distracted

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I confess that reading proofs is a pleasure. It stimulates and inspires 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.
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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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The difficulty, the ordeal, is to start.
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Men may rise on stepping stones of their dead selves to higher things.
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There are always greater fish than you have caught, always the lure of greater task and achievement, always the inspiration to seek, to endure, to find.
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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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Realism is death to me. I cannot stand life as it is.
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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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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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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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Work is my salvation. It changes my moods.
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I will see this game of life out to its bitter end
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Fishing is a condition of mind wherein you cannot possibly have a bad time.
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Before exulatation had vanished, I felt as if I had been granted a marvellous privilege. Out of the inscrutable waters a beautiful fish had somehow leaped to show me fleetingly the life and spirit of his element.
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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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I see so much more than I used to see. The effect has been to depress and sadden and hurt me terribly.
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I need this wild life, this freedom.
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