Jess Walter Quotes

Erhaps it was the difference in age between the countries—America with its expansive youth, building all those drive-in movie theaters and cowboy restaurants; Italians living in endless contraction, i...

„I don't think you put the swear word in the right place, Grandpa, Teddy says. When Dad first came here, my boys would look shocked whenever Dad went Old-Faithful-profane, and I began to wonder if Lis...

I don't know what I expected – no maybe I do, Al Pacino from Scarface- but this drug dealer is more like Al Pacino at the beginning of The Godfather reasonably bemused, untouched by his criminal world...

Put the fire out? Hell no. What we need to do is stoke it.

But aren't all great quests folly? El Dorado and the Fountain of Youth and the search for intelligent life in the cosmos-- we know what's out there. It's what isn't that truly compels us.

My dreams tend to be either so obscure as to seem random, or so obviously connected to my subconscious that it's embarrassing- as if even my hidden depths lack depth.

If you want to make art, go get a job at the Loov-rah.

Always speak first to the toughest person in the room.

This is a love story, Michael Dean says, but really what isn’t? Doesn’t the detective love the mystery or the chase, or the nosey female reporter who is even now being held against her wishes at an em...

And even if they don't find what they're looking for, isn't it enough to be out walking together in the sunlight?

…) met the owner of this cozy book-and-candle Apt. G, a tall, leggy, striking girl named Bea or maybe just the letter B or maybe the insect Bee, not sure, her long blond hair pulled in a ponytail, her...

Each gray hair still seemed like a weevil in a flower bed.

What kind of wife would I be if I left your father simply because he was dead?

The smaller the space between your desire and what is right, the happier you will be.

What business does memory have with time?

Here for business or pleasure, Mr. Wheeler?""Redemption," Shane says.

At peace? Who but the insane would ever be at peace? What person who has enjoyed life could possibly think one is enough? Who could live even a day and not feel the sweet ache of regret?

Our lives have a way of eddying back on themselves, offering us the same view over and over, daring us to get it right just once.

All we have is the story we tell. Everything we do, every decision we make, our strength, weakness, motivation, history, and character - what we believe - none of it is real; it's all part of the stor...

And he waited—as he always had—for life to come and find him.